by Jet Mykles
“Boys,” Lance answered.
“But he’s also been into girls,” Noble hastened to add.
Now it was Lance’s turn to give his friend an affronted look. When he did, he noticed that Gordon was staring hard at his plate, maybe trying not to listen in. Beyond him, Leon was actively listening and even made brief eye contact with Lance.
“Jesus.” Darien’s soft exclamation got Lance’s attention. He was flicking his glance from Lance to Noble to Danny, then beside him to Rabin. “You do know you guys are gonna get all sorts of shit about us. Especially if you’re all gay too.”
Rabin shrugged. “Fate, I guess. I don’t think I’ll mind the comparison.” It was said with a grin, which Lance, for one, returned. Getting compared to Heaven Sent in any fashion couldn’t be a bad thing.
Darien shook his head and scraped up some more sweet potatoes. “Oh sure, you say that now. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shook his head. “Weird coincidence, though.” He glanced down the table at Gordon. “Did you plan it this way, Gordon?”
“Me?” Gordon looked surprised but amused. “How could I have possibly have planned it this way?”
They now had the attention of the entire table.
“Planned what?” Gretchen asked.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that they’re all gay?” Darien asked her before Gordon could explain. “The Knights.”
“No more weird than you’re all gay,” Gretchen replied calmly.
“Yeah, but we didn’t start off that way.”
“Well, then”—she grinned at him—“they’ve got a head start, don’t they?”
At that, laughter erupted around the table.
“Besides,” Gretchen continued with a smug smile over her wineglass, “that makes them perfect as an opening band for Heaven Sent’s tour, doesn’t it?”
Things got very quiet. Gretchen met Gordon’s eyes across the table.
“Are you saying…?” Gordon started.
Gretchen picked up her glass and spoke to stop him. “I’m not saying anything yet. I’m just speculating.”
No one else said anything, but Gordon raised his glass toward her. “To speculating.”
At the end of the table, Brent and Hell exchanged amused glances. Darien didn’t say anything, just dug back into the food on his plate. Lance glanced at his bandmates, wondering if he had the same excitement in his eyes that was in theirs. Lots to be thankful for this year.
Chapter Twelve
Past, early April
Lance had just tossed his shirt onto the couch and unfastened the fly of his jeans when the door to the greenroom opened. There weren’t that many people allowed into the back hall at Fletcher’s that led to the small room, so Lance was pretty sure he’d know whomever it was.
He did. “Oh.” Gordon stopped just inside the door, gaze immediately intent on Lance’s bare chest.
Lance paused. He didn’t work out in the gym religiously like Gordon did, but he knew he was fairly well toned. At least his lovers all seemed to appreciate the arrangement of dark gold hair across his pecs and trailing down the center of his flat belly. If he was any judge of reactions, Gordon seemed to appreciate the same.
“I was looking…” Gordon dragged his eyes up to meet Lance’s. There was a heaviness to them that set Lance’s blood to simmering. “Where’s Shelby?”
Experimentally, Lance reached up to comb a hand through his hair, pulling some of the loose strands over his shoulder so they draped the upper part of his chest. “He’s gone.”
“Damn.” Gordon tracked his hand’s movement without trying to hide the fact. “He said he’d stick around to talk with me. Where’s Noble?”
“Out front.” The Might had finished their second set for the night, and Noble had gone straight out to scope the crowd. By the time Lance changed and joined him, he’d have a few guys lined up for Lance to choose from for company for the night.
“Oh.”
Lance hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and rested them there, letting the weight pull open his fly a little more to expose the gray of his briefs. Sure, he was posing.
A grin blossomed on Gordon’s face, and he shook his head. “You do look good.”
“Thanks. Want to come take a closer look?”
“Yes.” He didn’t move. “But I won’t.” He reached behind him to grab the door handle. “G’night, Lance.”
Lance watched the door close. Damn. Just being friends with Gordon wasn’t working for him. For two months now they’d been toying around with each other, almost flirting and occasionally touching. It felt like the kind of games you’d play in high school, not that Lance ever went to high school enough to have experienced it. Even though he kept telling himself it was best to stay away, he was drawn to Gordon. Didn’t look like Gordon was having better luck resisting.
Thinking about that, Lance traded the jeans he had on for a more comfortable pair and pulled on a long-sleeved V-neck sweater. He left his other clothes in the greenroom, from where one of Shelby’s staff would pick them up, wash them, and leave them in the apartment upstairs. With boots on and hair loose, he headed out front. Heavy prog-rock thudded through the dimly lit room. To his left was the crowded bar area, to his right was the abandoned stage, and in front of him was the sparse dance floor, lit by colorful overhead strobes. He spotted Noble in the middle of the dance crowd, surprisingly dancing with a woman. But he did that sometimes, claiming that women were often better dancers. There was a handful of attentive men around them, though, so he was in his element. Lance considered joining them, but he really didn’t like dancing. He glanced at the bar but didn’t want to fight the crowd. No, what he really wanted was…
Across the room, Gordon was at the bottom of the steps that led to the apartments. The lights highlighted him in phases as he spoke with the bouncer stationed there. His hand was on the railing, and he was already two steps up, clearly headed farther upstairs.
That’s what Lance wanted.
Skirting around the dance floor, he went after Gordon as the other man finished his conversation and mounted the steps. Lance waved at Eli, then hurried upstairs. When he turned the corner at the landing, Gordon had just opened his door. “Hey.”
Gordon glanced up. Saw him. Caution took over his expression. “Hey.”
“Can I talk to you?” Adrenaline had Lance’s heart racing. Hopefully that didn’t show on his face.
Gordon hesitated. “Lance, I don’t think—”
“It’ll just be a minute.” Just a minute if he couldn’t convince Gordon to go with the impulse Lance was riding.
More hesitation, but Gordon nodded. “Sure.” Gesturing inside, he preceded Lance. He hit the lights and dumped his keys on a side table as Lance came in and closed the door. Gordon wore a soft blue pullover with the sleeves pushed up almost to his elbows. His jeans were black, designer, and snug, and those shiny black oxfords probably cost a pretty penny. “What’s up?”
Lance stared at him for a moment, wavering. He’d never done this before. He didn’t act off the cuff, because it rarely went well. But this really seemed like the thing to do. He wanted this. But he’d paused long enough that Gordon started to frown in curiosity. Out with it. “You’re not seeing anybody.” A statement, not a question.
With a sigh, Gordon backed up a step. “Lance…”
“No, hear me out.” He took a breath, willing himself to do this right, wishing he’d taken time for a drink for courage. “Seems to me you’ve been here two months now and haven’t gotten laid yet.” Lance cocked his head to the side. “Unless I missed something?”
Dark brows drew down toward the bridge of Gordon’s nose. “No.”
“See?” Lance tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “I think that’s a damn shame.”
Gordon crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Do you?”
“I do.” He let his gaze roam slowly and deliberately down Gordon’s body, savoring every honed curve. “I’m pretty sure
you need to be fucked. You can’t go around pent up like that.”
“‘Pent up’?”
“Yeah.”
The corners of his mouth twitched as Gordon gave a lazy perusal of his own. It set every one of Lance’s nerve endings on fire. “I take it you have a solution to my… dilemma?”
“Yeah.” Lance took himself a few steps closer to Gordon, who stayed right where he was. “We should fuck.”
Gordon laughed. There was a nice, warm undercurrent to it. “We decided not.”
“No, sir.” Lance spoke almost before Gordon was finished talking, his focus on Gordon’s lips. “You decided not. I went with it. At the time.”
A pink tongue poked at the inside of Gordon’s bottom lip for a brief second. “And now?”
“And now”—Lance grinned to keep some levity between them—“you need my help. Besides…” Lance made himself look into Gordon’s eyes. There it was. That flash of heat, those glittering green crystals that defied any brown in his irises. “I think you want me.”
Gordon smiled. “You’re sure about that?”
“I am. And it’s okay.” He was less than an arm’s length away now. “I want you too.”
Lance didn’t imagine the flare of nostrils, almost as though Gordon could scent him. Those eyes searched his, but was Gordon looking for a reason to fuck or for a reason not to fuck?
“This is a bad idea.”
“Nah.” Lance reached up to stroke his fingertips along the side of Gordon’s jaw. Stubble had just begun to push through that surprisingly soft skin. “This is the best idea going. I get off; you get off. No harm, no foul.”
He waited. He’d gone this far. Farther than he’d ever gone before without a blatant invitation. The guys Noble sent to him were guaranteed. He’d never tried to pick up a guy on his own.
“I’m done with one-night stands.”
“I’m good with more than one night.”
Gordon started to shake his head. “You don’t understa—”
“Hey.” Lance ran his thumb over the plump curve of Gordon’s lower lip. They were the same height, bodies already perfectly aligned. “I don’t need to understand anything.” He kept his tone light, almost teasing, but also low and, hopefully, seductive. “I want you. You want me. You want more, and that’s cool. You can still find someone else for that.” Although that idea troubled him, he abandoned it for the more immediate topic. “Sex is fun, and we both want it. Enough said.”
Gordon’s gaze dropped with a different kind of heat, one Lance couldn’t identify. For a moment, Lance was sure he’d lost him, as he could almost hear a door shutting between them.
He took a chance and leaned in to touch his lips to Gordon’s. “God, I want to fuck you.” He had to whisper it because he never said shit like this. But this time it was important. “You have to want me too.”
He wasn’t sure where the last sentence came from, but it seemed to do the trick. Only because he was so close did he feel the tremor that shook Gordon just a fraction of a second before lips claimed his. A meeting of skin to skin. A decisive yes. Then their lips opened together for a more immediate oh yes. When tongues became involved, the heat went straight from simmering to inferno. Their mouths met in mutual demand, sensual and ravenous. Lance’s hands found either side of Gordon’s head, holding, tilting to deepen the kiss. He’d rarely kissed a guy who was exactly his height, and he liked it. Gordon’s palms slid up Lance’s sides on their way to spread over his back. Between them they traded the tastes of whiskey and coffee until both merged into a spicy single flavor.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” Lance murmured, words slurred because Gordon had Lance’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Gordon released Lance’s lip and ducked his head to bite at Lance’s pulse. “You too.”
“We need to get naked.”
Gordon sucked at his skin, then popped his mouth free. “Yes.” He grabbed Lance’s sweater and walked backward toward the open door to the bedroom.
They tore at each other’s clothing. Lance got Gordon’s pullover up to his armpits, then attacked his chest with bites while Gordon struggled it the rest of the way off. His skin was so smooth and taut over firm, edible muscle. Lance managed to tip Gordon’s balance and topple him onto the mattress, then followed to pin him down for some hot and heavy kissing and groping for long, glorious minutes. Gordon’s hands shoved up under the hem of Lance’s sweater, finding the bare skin of his back.
Bare skin.
He ripped himself away, pushing up to straddle Gordon’s thighs. Long blond locks of his hair fell forward to sweep Gordon’s shoulders and chest.
As he pulled off his sweater, Gordon attacked his belt and fly. “They say you’ve got a monster cock.”
Lance tossed the sweater aside. “They who?” He thrust his hips forward as Gordon drew down his zipper, and watched when Gordon hooked fingers in his briefs to expose his erection.
Appreciation was evident, both in Gordon’s eyes and the rough grip of his fist. “They were so right.”
Gordon squeezed, and Lance gave up caring who they might be. He let his head fall back to enjoy the pull of Gordon’s hand for a few strokes, rocking his hips for good measure.
Gordon smacked one side of his ass. “Get up here so I can try to put my mouth around it.”
Happy to obey, Lance edged closer and dropped down on all fours over Gordon. Sensual lips smiled as his dick got nearer, and then Gordon’s tongue swiped out across the head.
“Oh yeah.” Lance pushed his dick between Gordon’s lips, letting the grip at the base of his shaft tell him when he shouldn’t go farther. “Man.” Gradually, he pulled his hips back, going cross-eyed as Gordon lashed at him with his tongue. He could only moan as Gordon sucked him back in on the downthrust. Fuck, he could have stayed there all night, letting Gordon suck him. Except he couldn’t. That tingle in his groin warned him he was close, and he had to make a decision: stay, and come down Gordon’s throat; or pull out, find a condom, and fuck his ass.
The latter won.
“Hey!”
On his feet, Lance turned toward the nightstand rather than see the sexy, wet swelling of Gordon’s lips. “Supplies still in here?”
Gordon caught on quick. While Lance pulled open the drawer, Gordon loosened the fly of his slacks. “Yeah.”
Lance pulled out a bottle of lube and plucked a condom from an open box. The fact that there seemed to be just as many condoms in the box as there had been when he’d used the room last confirmed that Gordon hadn’t been getting any. At least, not at home. The bottle of lube was familiar too, but there was less of it than Lance remembered. He chose to think that was because of Gordon’s personal use. A shiny cloth bag at the side of the drawer caught his eye. The shape was familiar. Holding the lube and condom in one hand, he fished into the drawstring opening of the bag and pulled out a black plastic butt plug.
“Nice.” He grinned down at Gordon. “You use this a lot?”
Unashamed and gloriously naked, Gordon lay on his side, watching Lance’s dick. “Enough.”
Now quite sure of himself, Lance dropped the lube and condom on the mattress, set the plug on the nightstand, and reached down to pull off one of his sneakers. “Guess that answers the top-or-bottom question.”
Gordon made no move to help him with his clothes, but he did reach for the condom packet to rip it open. “I go both ways.”
Since Lance had only been with guys Noble had sent him, the top/bottom thing had never been an issue. It belatedly occurred to him that Gordon might prefer to top. As he shed shoes and socks, he watched Gordon with the condom. But Gordon only took the circle of latex out of the plastic, then waited while Lance dropped his pants to the floor. With a smile, Gordon held the condom out to Lance. Relief washed through Lance, and he tried to hide it. He wasn’t sure he did a great job at that. But Gordon’s smile wasn’t troubled, and the languid move of his body as he arranged himself on his back in the center of the bed distracted Lance from hi
s worries.
Condom on, Lance crawled onto the bed so he could approach Gordon from between bent knees. “God, you’re gorgeous.” What was it with him? He wasn’t usually much for compliments. But with Gordon, he had to. Because Gordon really was that gorgeous. Everything about him made Lance’s blood boil.
Gordon’s palms braced either side of his jaw, leading Lance’s mouth to his. “So are you,” he breathed just before taking Lance’s lips in a heart-stopping kiss.
Lost, Lance pushed into him, lowering chest to chest, groin to groin as he fed on Gordon’s tongue. At first all they did was kiss, but Lance couldn’t ignore the need racing through his veins. Blindly, he groped for the lube and managed to wet his fingers. He slid his hand between them, down, under Gordon’s balls, until he could rub the wet into the sensitive, puckered skin of Gordon’s hole. The greedy moan fed into his mouth was a sign that he’d made the right move. Gordon opening his thighs wide was another sign. Lance rubbed around, testing what Gordon might like. When he pushed in a finger, Gordon pressed down hard enough to clue him in that he needed to do more. So he pushed in another finger. Twisted. Stroked. Gordon started a quick, forceful rhythm with his hips, his hole squeezing so hard Lance wondered if his fingers would break off. Imagine what that would feel like on his cock.
Groaning, Lance pulled away from their wet, sloppy kiss. “I need to fuck you now.”
Gordon untangled his fingers from Lance’s hair, sliding his hands down to spread them over Lance’s shoulders. “God, yes.”
Unwilling to put much distance between them, Lance got his knees under him but stayed propped with one arm beside Gordon’s chest. Another squirt of lube, then he reached down to stroke his sheathed cock, Gordon watching him all the while with deep, sexy eyes. Squeezing his shaft as much to hold off orgasm as to aim, Lance managed to work his dick into position. After just a minor shift from Gordon, he got the head of his dick inside. Gordon hissed, eyes shut, and Lance froze. The clench on the tip was breathtaking, and he needed the pause as much as Gordon. Before he knew if he was ready, though, Gordon was rocking his hips, slowly, surely, easing Lance farther into his body.
