by Maxene Novak
“One night,” Colt growled. “One night, and then we talk. Promise me we’ll talk about this.”
“I promise, I swear, just take me home,” Ruger gasped.
They ran down the walk hand in hand and jumped into Colt’s truck. The two-minute drive felt like an eternity, but soon they were tumbling down the steps into Colt’s basement apartment.
Colt locked the door behind them then turned, pulling Ruger into a vice-like embrace. Colt devoured his mouth as if he’d been starving for it. Ruger gave, letting him in, and Colt pulled him into the bedroom. They stripped each other quickly, and Ruger kissed him along his jaw, nibbling his ear, running his lips down Colt’s thick throat. He bit his collarbone in just the right spot to make Colt groan in just the right way. He moved down Colt’s firm pecs, twirling his tongue around Colt’s nipple.
Ruger ran his tongue down the split between Colt’s ripped abs, kissed the V at his hips, and tugged the pants down to Colt’s ankles. His hard member sprang free, and Ruger met it with an open and eager mouth. Colt moaned as Ruger twirled his tongue around the head of his cock. He swallowed the thick cock once, twice, and a third time before Colt pulled away.
Ruger was airborne then, tossed on the bed. Colt fell onto him, pulling the last of his clothes away, kissing his mouth with the passion that Ruger had always loved, had been craving for years. Colt was desperate for it, desperate for him. He was naked in moments, sliding across Colt’s silky sheets, making room for the lover he’d thought was lost to him.
Colt was beside him instantly, pressing his naked body flush against Ruger’s. Tongues and dicks battled in a euphoric tangle as they pressed and strained against one another. Colt slid down Ruger’s body, latching on to his nipple and suckling as he entered him. Ruger cried out in pleasure as Colt filled him, igniting his nerves with the flick of his tongue. Colt thrust, slowly at first, then faster as the heat built between them. Ruger whimpered, overwhelmed by his need for more.
Colt rolled him onto his back and locked in a rhythm. Ruger’s hips levitated and his toes curled as ecstasy washed over him from the tips of his toes, through his thighs, to his groin and the pool of heat melting just below his belly. He gripped the sheets in tight fists as Colt buried himself inside him, again and again. He felt Colt swell as his thighs tightened and bulged. Colt wrapped his hand around Ruger’s throbbing cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts.
“Oh god,” Ruger moaned.
Colt’s breath quickened and his eyes grew dark. He was the most beautiful creature Ruger had ever seen, or would ever see again. Colt came in a violent explosion, catapulting Ruger over the edge of ecstasy.
Colt lay beside him and pulled him close.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked breathlessly.
“Of course,” Ruger panted. “There’s no way I’m walking home after that.”
Colt chuckled and squeezed Ruger tight. For the first time in what felt like forever, Colt and Ruger snuggled naked under the covers and drifted off into parallel dream worlds where nothing hurt and love came easy.
Chapter Fifteen
Ruger was gone when Colt woke up the next morning. His empty bed reflected the empty feeling in his gut. He didn’t know what he’d expected this morning, but waking up alone wasn’t it. He wanted to call Ruger, but he resisted. Ruger had made it clear that he wasn’t ready to talk, but promises or no promises, his absence spoke more clearly than words ever could. Colt reluctantly pulled himself out of bed. Getting up felt like swimming against wet concrete.
He’d been an idiot. He’d let old lusts and current frustration get the best of him, and now he was stuck with the aftermath. He looked at his calendar briefly. He had a class late that afternoon, but nothing until then. He realized that he hadn’t checked on Belle like he’d promised, and the guilt piled on top of the slew of shitty emotions swirling in his gut. Screw it, he decided. He’d keep himself busy in his work, and he’d leave Ruger alone. That was his intention. He nearly failed within the first ten minutes of being awake; as he stepped out of the shower, he moved to send a text to Ruger. Instead, he texted Belle.
Free till 4. What time works for you?
She responded quickly.
Up and ready now. Whenever is good for you.
He needed coffee and about a gallon of water. Then he would need to rehome the liquids, he calculated.
Give me half an hour. Nothing too strenuous.
Okay ttys.
She was waiting by the door when he knocked, and opened it cheerfully.
“You look better than you did yesterday,” he commented. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” she told him with a little laugh. “I popped like an old man this morning, but it didn’t hurt. Of course I slept for a good twelve hours, so I’m sure that helped.”
“I bet it did,” Colt said approvingly. “You’ve been up for a while, then.”
“Yeah,” she told him as she walked toward the couch. “I spent most of the night binge watching reality shows and looking up classes. There’s a sculpting class a couple towns over, I figure I’ll start with that.”
There was the hope he’d been looking for.
“Sounds good! Alright, so today I’ve got massage on the agenda. I could put a mat down on the floor here, or we could do it in the bedroom.”
She paused for a moment, thinking.
“Bedroom,” she decided. “Tassie’s around here somewhere. She’s been in and out of the office all morning mumbling to herself.”
“What’s she mumbling?” Colt asked, more to make conversation than anything. He and Tassie lived in different worlds, and he never really knew how to interpret her when she was in the throes of her work.
“Sounded like dialogue,” she shrugged. “Sounded pretty good, too. I’m interested in her people and I don’t even know their names.”
“Props to Tassie, then.”
Belle led the way into her bedroom, and Colt was struck by the way her soft grey dress hugged her curves. Her hips swayed a little too dramatically as her body naturally balanced the extra weight on her left side. He found himself drifting, imagining her swaying like that under him. He shook his head. Boundaries, he told himself firmly.
“What are you wearing under your dress?” he asked, keeping his tone professional.
“Underpants and a cami,” she told him, blushing.
“Okay. Are you comfortable wearing just that? The massage would go more smoothly if I wasn’t fighting with that long skirt.”
“Um… yeah, that’s fine,” she said in a rush.
She struggled to remove the dress, and he moved to help her, then stopped.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” she said, sounding relieved.
He slid the garment up over her head, noticing the meticulously plaited braid running down her back. He hadn’t realized just how long her hair was before; she’d always had it up in a bun when he’d seen her. He imagined it falling over him, loose and thick around him. He forcibly suppressed the image, forced himself to remain professional.
He helped her onto the bed and had her lie down on the pillow.
“I’m going to need to take your brace off,” he told her. “These panties don’t tie. Do you trust me?”
She nodded breathlessly, her eyes darkening. He swallowed hard, ignoring the arousal painted all over her face. He worked opposite the way he’d worked the day before, beginning at the ankle, unfastening hooks and straps all the way up to her hip. He hardened as he slid her panties down just enough to unclasp one side of the pelvic brace. Her skin was warm and inviting as he lifted her up just enough to slide it out.
He caught her scent, and he nearly tumbled over into the pool of desire that was steadily growing inside of him. He cleared his throat and set the brace aside, taking a moment to breathe deeply.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he lied, pulling himself together. Clinical, he ordered. Simple med
icine.
He started at her toes, separating them with his thumbs, massaging the ball of her foot in little circles. Her toes were bulbous and her feet were calloused; clear signs of constant, dedicated use. Her ankle popped audibly as her foot relaxed, and she gasped.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“No, not really. It just surprised me.”
He worked his magic up over her ankle to her calf. The muscles were weak and knotted, as if they had begun to atrophy but were too stubborn. He worked at the knots layer by layer, putting pressure at the nerve junctions, forcing the muscles to release. A pop from her knee told him it was working, and her sigh told him it felt lovely.
He swallowed hard as he worked over her knee to her thigh. His sensitive fingers found the tears, the scar tissue, and the stitches; he avoided them, working the tissues on either side. The complexity of the muscular damage distracted him from the fact that his fingers were mere inches from her center, barely a breath away from the soft cotton panties with the little pink rose buds. His eyes slid of their own volition to her mound, and he ripped them back to his work. He was flirting with losing all of his licenses if he didn’t pull himself together.
Her hip popped then, and she gasped.
“That one hurt,” she squeaked.
“Sorry,” he said, returning his entire attention to what he was supposed to be focused on. He found that one of the tense muscles had been so tense because it was doing the hip ligaments’ job. He worked the entire area, moving blood back into the joint, awakening the nerves there. He adjusted her leg to take the pressure off of her hip, and continued to work the muscles. He was right over her panty line now. His hands began to sweat, and he rubbed them on his thighs.
You’ve done thousands of these—what is your problem? he scolded himself.
He moved over her hip to her waist, releasing the strained muscles there. She gasped, ending the sound with a tiny moan. He was instantly and painfully aroused.
“Did that hurt?” he asked, and his voice sounded thick and lusty in his own head.
“Not at all,” she cooed. “That feels amazing.”
He moved his hands to the spot between her hips, above her mound. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed there, releasing muscles, resetting nerves, encouraging blood flow. He made the mistake of glancing at her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her lip. His gaze ran over her hard nipples poking through her thin camisole, her belly rising and falling in quick, deep breaths. He could take her over the edge right then, screw professionalism.
No! he screamed mentally. This body is your project, not your release! Get it together!
He moved away, back to her thigh. That wasn’t far enough.
“Excuse me, I just need to use the bathroom real quick. Don’t move.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
As he walked away, he saw her run her hands over her body. He nearly turned around to help her. He closed the bathroom door and swore viciously.
“This is your fault,” he growled, glaring at the very obvious bulge in his pants.
He splashed cold water on his face and took several deep breaths. He washed his hands thoroughly, meticulously, wasting time until the heat inside him died down. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard her cry out softly and moan. It nearly undid all his work.
Get her put back together and get the hell out, he ordered.
“Alright, well I think that was a good first session,” he said loudly as he entered the room.
She was utterly relaxed, with a hazy smile playing on her face.
“I agree,” she said enthusiastically.
He cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s get this contraption back on.”
He wasn’t as gentle as he should have been. He moved too fast, was just the tiniest bit too rough. He was desperate to get out of there before he did something he regretted, and the tiny wet spot on her panties heightened that desperation. He had her fastened into her brace with her dress back on in moments.
“Well, I, uh… I’m late for an appointment. Stay off of that leg as much as you can so the massage can work like it’s supposed to and I’ll see you at eleven o’clock tomorrow at the gym. Bye.”
He bolted out the door like a bat out of hell and didn’t stop running until he was safely back inside his apartment.
“Idiot!” he exploded.
This wasn’t going to work. He needed to get himself under control. He needed… he didn’t know what he needed, but he knew he needed something. It was no wonder Ruger couldn’t put up with him. When somebody flipped that switch for him, it was all over. If she hadn’t been his client, he would have crossed that line. He knew he would have. He’d had crushes before, but it had never been like this. He could chalk it up to Ruger’s mind games. He could chalk it up to hurt feelings. But the truth of it was, he was barely in control. He needed help.
And the one person who usually helped him with his own failings as a person was the one person Colt couldn’t talk to. No, if he took this problem to Ruger, it would open him up to manipulation. That’s not how Ruger would intend it, but that’s what it would be. He could see that.
“Yeah, not risky at all. Oh hey, Ruger, I know I said it would never happen, but you see I’ve got an unbearable hard on for you both and now I’m going to throw my career away over it unless you help me. There’s no opening for manipulation there, not at all!”
He needed help. He needed an objective opinion from somebody who didn’t have an agenda, from somebody who wouldn’t be able to screw up his practice with his admission that he was utterly smitten with a client and her landlord. In the meantime, though, he had to make sure that she was taken care of. She might not be happy about it… he certainly wasn’t… but he was going to have to find another way to get her where she needed to be. At least until he had this idiotic adolescent revival under control.
He spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon on his computer, looking up old contacts and making dozens of phone calls.
Chapter Sixteen
Tassie emerged in the early afternoon, looking exhausted but satisfied.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Belle said.
“Thanks,” Tassie replied dreamily. “God, that’s a good feeling. It’s better than sex, really.”
“Finished the book?” Belle asked.
“Finished the outline and the character builds, and I love them. I hated them for a while there, but I love them now.”
Tassie sighed happily and flopped down on the couch beside Belle. She looked around the room as if she didn’t recognize it, and her gaze landed on Belle’s face.
“Why do you look heartbroken?” she asked.
“Oh,” Belle blew out a breath. “It’s not as dramatic as all that, I just… I think I messed up.”
“With what?”
“Colt. He came over this morning for my massage, and I… I don’t know. Having someone touch me like that, be completely focused on me like that, it’s… I mean, I’m no virgin and I’ve had plenty of massages, but it was different somehow. Kind of erotic, you know? Anyway, I didn’t come onto him or anything, but I think he knew. He got really uncomfortable, and basically ran out of here. And now,” she sighed, “he just sent me this.”
She showed Tassie her phone with the text displayed.
Won’t be running the class tomorrow. Do what you can, 15 minutes max. Massage therapist will be at your place Friday at 3. Her name is Odette. She’s good. Have some personal stuff to handle, will be back soon to keep an eye on your progress. Will handle insurance stuff on my end.
“Wow,” Tassie whistled. “Dumped by the physical therapist. That’s kind of harsh.”
“Right?” Belle said miserably. “I feel like crap. Like, I didn’t mean to make it obvious or anything, I just… I was really enjoying myself, and I’ve been so lonely since the accident. I just liked the attention, you know? I wasn’t going to propose marriage or anything.”
&nbs
p; “Yeah… well, Colt’s always been a little… unpredictable. Predictably unpredictable, but unpredictable nonetheless.”
“You’re gonna have to explain that,” Belle said with a laugh.
“Well, okay, so… Colt’s kind of a womanizer. At least he used to be, I think he’s slowed down a lot in the last couple years. But anyway, it’s always intensely emotional. He’ll be hot and heavy with some chick for a couple weeks, and she’ll be over the moon. She gets his full attention, and he lavishes her with attention and gifts. Then like clockwork, he dumps her after a couple weeks. No warning, just finished. With his reputation it’s sort of amazing that he gets so much business, but he never messes with his clients. Not while they’re clients, anyway. At least not that I know of. But in any emotionally fraught situation, he’ll be all in until it’s too much, then he’ll split. It’s almost like he did that here, just without the preamble. I’m not really sure how to interpret it, except to say that it fits with his personality. We’re just missing the important bits, that’s all.”
“Well I’m glad you told me that,” Belle said. “I was getting really close to asking him out. Well, really close to deciding to ask him out, anyway. Can’t really do much right now, not with my body all busted to hell. But if that’s the way he is, there’s really no point, is there?”
“Not unless you’re really into short-term relationships,” Tassie agreed.
“I used to be,” Belle admitted. “Back when I was dancing, my partner was my long-term relationship. We never slept together, it wasn’t like that… but the companionship, the emotional portion of it, planning our lives together, that kind of thing… that was all him. So I’d take a lover once in a while to get my romantic needs met, then I’d move on. I used to be a lot like Colt that way, I guess.”
