by Avery Flynn
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“I told you to kiss my ass,” I said. “You’re a dick.”
“I’ll be the only one kissing it if you really wear that shitty t-shirt tomorrow. Nobody buys those things except tourists from the square states in the middle of nowhere,” he said, tossing my phone back at me.
“I’m a tourist.”
“With your very own, sexy tour guide,” he said. “Carla says he’s a great guy.”
“He is.” I settled back on the cushions, pressing my hand down on my overfull stomach. I shouldn’t have had that second bowl of pasta. “I’ve known him since he started playing for the Rage but he was way in the closet and we didn’t talk about it.”
“You knew?”
“My gaydar is always right. You know this.”
“Fuck off. You weren’t right about that guy in Cancun.” Ryker pointed at me, his frown fierce as he brought up old shit. “He was a great fuck but I’m not interested in popping the bi-curious cherry for a guy on weekend away from the wife and kids.”
“That was years ago. Why do you keep bringing it up?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about Oprah-shit like what you’re doing with Jamie but I feel like I should.” He rubbed his hand over his shaved scalp, the tattoo sleeve on his arm flexing as he moved. “I’m not going to go all emo or anything but I get the vibe that you like this guy and I’m just wondering what the fuck is going on.”
Everything about him screamed that he would have been more comfortable having a lube-free cavity search at the local police department . . . and he would know. Ryker was a good friend but I wouldn’t say that he was unequivocally a good man. He lived by his own code of right and wrong and that didn’t always align with the world or, more specifically, the penal code. But he was my friend.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” I said, getting up to grab another beer from the fridge. “I like him. He’s beyond hot and he’s interested.” I thought back to our time on the plane and at the youth center. “He’s great. It’s fun. He’s probably moving here within the next few weeks so it is what it is. It doesn’t have to be anything.”
“I know it doesn’t have to be anything. I’m the crown prince of nothing but you’re not.” He motioned towards me from across the room as I emerged with the liquid courage necessary for where this conversation was going. “You’re the king of joint mortgages, commitment, and Sunday dinner with your Mamere.”
I winced at him butchering my second-native tongue. It didn’t change that fact that he was right. If I had a choice, I preferred to be with someone, to build a life with someone. I’d thought I had that with my last boyfriend but that had died a year ago. His choice. Not mine. And since then I’d avoided all that crap.
“Your cajun french is shitty. Just stop ruining it.”
“Yeah well, my English is perfect so hear me now: stop dicking around and tell me that you know what you’re doing. It’s been a year since David moved out and I’m all over you getting your cock sucked as long as you know where your head is at.”
“The big one or the little one?” I couldn’t help but tease him. It was easier than having this conversation.
“Newsflash: the big one is currently up your ass. Mystery solved.”
I flipped him the bird and leaned on the countertop. I was a little too buzzed to want to think about this so hard but the date was tomorrow. The date that would probably end up with Jamie and I naked and covered in sweat if I was reading it right. He’d get picked up here in DC and I’d head back to NOLA and carry around regret for a few months that this great guy couldn’t be mine. What else could it be?
“It’s a weekend thing. I’m not dumb enough to think this is going anywhere but I’ll enjoy the ride.”
Chapter 5
DC
Daniel Craig’s ass was drool-worthy even in wax.
Etienne and I stood side-by-side, checking out “007” from every angle. If the figures were as lifelike as they claimed, Mr. Bond would be a nice armful in bed. Tall enough, lean and covered in muscle. A man you could sink your teeth into.
Just like the man standing next to me wearing the ugliest fucking shirt I’d ever seen.
The shirt was black, a perfect choice to highlight the gold glitter “I ‘heart” DC” logo scrawled across the front. It was tacky and cheap and Etienne wore it like a boss.
It only made me want him more. But it didn’t stop me from busting his chops.
“That is an ugly fucking shirt,” I said, reaching out to lift the back of the tuxedo jacket covering the statue to get a better look at the perfect curve of his ass. “And they should have put him in that bathing suit from ‘Die Another Day’.”
“Fuck off my shirt is amazing.”
“Fine. But I’m right about the speedo.”
“You’re an idiot.” Etienne said as he moved further along in the museum. Every celebrity you could think of was in this place and the waxwork was unbelievably lifelike. He stopped in front of Chris Hemsworth and looked at me, sizing us up. He pulled me into a position right next to the statue and then stepped back, making me squirm under his examination.
“You two are about the same size but I was never much into blondes. Grab his hammer.”
“Okay, I know we’re allowed to touch the statues but I’m pretty sure that will get us kicked us out of here,” I joked, laughing harder when he scowled and flipped me the bird. I did as he said, pretending to try and lift Thor’s weapon as he snapped a pic. I stepped forward to see what it looked like on the screen of his phone. His warmth drew me closer as I peeked over his shoulder, resting my chin against it. “So, you’re not into blondes?”
Etienne shivered a little when my breath danced along the exposed skin of his neck and I grinned to myself, loving the reaction. We’d eased into a comfortable place, sharing physical space, mutually understanding that we enjoyed touching each other. The tease was enjoyable, almost innocent in spite of the spark of attraction that arced between the two of us.
It was as if we’d silently agreed to enjoy this day. Like we were in a bubble of only the “here and now”. No offer pending from DC. No job back in New Orleans. Just us. I was willing to go with it.
“No.” He shook his head, thumbing through the pics on his phone as we both pretended to actually look at them. All I could see was him. Even with James Bond only a few feet away. “I’m into brunettes. Dark hair. Olive skin.”
So . . . guys who look like me. Good to know.
A family tromped into the room with us, the kids squealing at the sight of Captain America standing in the corner next to Thor and several other superheroes. We moved apart but our hands brushed in the process and I reached out on impulse, tangling our fingers for the briefest moment before letting him go. He flashed a smile at me and reached out, hooking a finger through as belt loop on my short and dragged me with him.
“What kind of guy are you into?” He asked as we walked down a hallway of sports figures. Babe Ruth. John McEnroe. Michael Phelps wearing a swimsuit. Bonus. He paused and flicked a questioning gaze at me. “You’ve had boyfriends before? I’m not sure how closeted you were.” And then he dropped his hand from my waist and waved me off. “That was so fucking personal. You don’t have to tell me.”
I caught up with him, mimicking him by snagging his waistband to stop his retreat. When he turned to face me, I slid my hand down his forearm interlocking our fingers.
“I’ve never held hands with a guy in public. Never kissed a man out in the open. Dating? I’m a virgin. Behind doors and in the dark, I’ve done it all.” I glanced over when the family form earlier joined us but I didn’t let go of his hand. I’d risked everything to have a moment like this and I was going to take it. “You asked me why I came out and the biggest reason was the kids but it was also this. I was tired of hiding who I cared about and ashamed that I ever asked them to do it.”
“I just can’t imagine living like that,” he said, shaki
ng his head in emphasis to his disbelief. “I came out when I was in high school. I never had to hide who I was or who I loved.”
“You’re very lucky, then. I’m jealous.” And suddenly all this heavy conversation was too much. I tugged him along to a room full of musicians and pop stars. At the entrance was Kylie Minogue, wearing very little. Her microphone was actually bigger than parts of her costume and I wondered how she had a clothing mishap when she danced around on stage. “Do I lose my gay membership card if I confess that I really don’t like Kylie very much?”
Etienne laughed, dropping my hand to snap a photo. “David would have sold a kidney to go see her live.”
I didn’t need for him to explain who David was. I heard the bare bones through the Rage rumor mill: they’d been together for two years and his lover had moved out for another man. Etienne had been subdued, a washed-out version of himself, during that time and I’d had no clue how to help him out. What advice could I give when I’d never been through it?
“Have you . . .” I stopped, unsure about what I wanted to ask.
“Been with someone since he left?” He nodded. “I’ve hooked up. I wasn’t ready for anything else for a long time. He wrecked me and I’m man enough to admit it. I had a good time but as Ryker informed me, I’m a ‘joint mortgage and Sunday dinner” kind of guy. I think I’m ready to maybe look for that again. To give it a shot.” Etienne shrugged. “I never doubted that I wanted that someday. My Mamere says that love is the point of everything and I think I agree with her. At least it’s been my dream for as long as I can remember.”
I felt the pull of his words in my chest, somewhere that could only be my heart. What a weird fucking sensation. Weird but good. Suddenly all I wanted was to show him the only place I’d dared to dream.
“If you’re a dreamer, then I’ve got the perfect place for you.”
Etienne
The Planetarium at the Air and Space Museum was almost deserted.
Huddled down in the muddy darkness with Jamie, we watched the “sky” swirl over our heads. The universe, the galaxy and then the Washington, DC skyline unfolded over us with stars glowing like they were trying to show off. An elderly couple pointed to the ceiling as the recorded voice of a voiceover actor related to us all the constellations as they glowed especially bright in their turn.
Jamie sat beside me, his large body taking up more space than the small seat allotted to him. He spilled over the edges, broad shoulders, muscled arms and thighs rubbing up against my own with a delicious friction. I leaned into him, enjoying the contact for what it was: pure pleasure for the sake of pleasure.
“This is not where I expected you to bring me,” I said, watching the couple in front of us. Maybe in their eighties, they were wearing matching t-shirts similar to mine and we’d given each other the wave of solidarity when we’d filed into the room together. “But this is cool. I’ve never been here before.”
He leaned back, resting his head on the back of the seat while he pointed to a spot just over our heads. Jamie whispered when he spoke, close to my ear with his warm breath tickling the skin on my cheek.
“In Southeast DC where I grew up, there were too many lights to really see the stars in the sky. I didn’t even realize how fucking bright and beautiful it all was until we came here for a school trip. The planetarium blew my mind. No joke.”
His smile was bright white against the dark of his beard and the lighter dusk of his skin. Eyes the color of smoke glowed with his simple delight in being here. His joy made my breath catch. He was . . . stunning.
“I would come here when I couldn’t figure shit out,” he returned his gaze to the ceiling but I could still see the grimace that twisted his sexy lips. “I came here a lot when I figured out that I was gay because that shit rocked my world. It was hard enough being the only half-white kid in my neighborhood but adding queer into the mix was a quick way to get myself hurt. Or killed.”
“So, you came here and dreamed? About . . .?”
His expression morphed back into a smile, softer than his usual bright grin but still gorgeous. “Escaping. Getting out of here and to a place where I could be who I was and not give a fuck about what other people thought about me. This was my dreaming place.”
He reached out and took my hand and my heart stuttered at this man’s simple seduction. Jamie wasn’t the typical professional hockey player. He was quiet, spent a lot of his down time at the rink reading, didn’t hit the party scene looking for puck bunnies.
I watched him now, not the stars unfolding overhead of us. Figuring out this man was far more interesting, a puzzle that kept adding layers as I placed pieces that I thought I knew. Forget the galaxy. . .the final frontier was this man’s heart for whoever was lucky enough to get him.
I moved in closer and Jamie turned his head to look back at me. Physically, we’d been closer before but right now it felt like our souls were aligning somehow. My Mamere would say that it was chemistry, the pull of our souls together and for once I wouldn’t argue. That’s exactly what it felt like.
And then all that was swirling between us took off like a rocket seeking the distant stars when he closed the distance and kissed me. His mouth was warm, tongue wet and the heavy weight of his palm wrapped around the back of my neck was sizzling. I opened up to him immediately, starving for every taste, every lick, every graze of sharp teeth on my tender skin.
I reached up and wove my fingers with his own, holding him in place as the kiss went on and on. The lights came up gradually and I realized that the soothing voice piped in through the speakers had stopped and now the drone of the museum docent instructed us to leave through the door on the other side of the room.
Jamie released my mouth, his own lips wet from our kiss but he kept his hand in place, refusing to relinquish the connection. I found myself smiling at him and I know I had to look like an idiot but this guy made me happy. He made me laugh and he was honest and kind and seemed incapable of playing games. After a year of only knowing guys long enough to drop trou and slap on a condom, I really didn’t want this to end when we left this room.
“Look, I know that this has a shelf-life. I’m going back to New Orleans and you’re going to stay here and starting anything right now is such a bad fucking idea,” I said.
“But . . .?”
“But I don’t want to end this right now. I’m here for the weekend. You’re here for the weekend . . .” I trailed off, asking him with my silence to meet me halfway. I didn’t think I’d read him the wrong way.
“We can just have this weekend? Be grown-ups at the end and walk away?” Jamie asked.
“I can if you can,” I said and then realized that it sounded like I could take it or leave it. That was not the case at all. “I want to and I hope you do too.”
He let go of my neck, the warm slide of his palm across my skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. I shivered a little, enjoying the sensation of arousal and need. I felt alive.
“I want that too,” he answered, his smile back in full force and prompting one of my own. “So, what are we going to do for the rest of our weekend?”
I wasn’t sure how well my suggestion would go over. It had been a place where David and I had not met with a mutual enjoyment and it had been a rough spot on our relatively smooth relationship. In the end, there had really been no drama when we’d imploded. There’d never been enough fireworks to cause that kind of explosion on impact.
Me and Jamie? We had a mini-earthquake every time we touched.
“How do you feel about dancing?”
Chapter 6
DC
“The Club” was the name of the place where we met Etienne’s friends.
A two-story venue, the bar was on the first floor and wide steps led to the second level dance floor. Techno pop blared from the speakers as a sea of hot guys of every make, model and size gyrated under the strobe lights. Almost all of them were shirtless and the sight of all that naked, hard sweaty flesh got my blood pumping i
n my veins in a straight line to my cock.
Ryker popped up into my line of sight. I wouldn’t say that he grinned. It was much too feral for that but I think the flash of his teeth meant that he was happy about being here. It was hard to tell with the mask of nothing that usually covered his face.
“Is this the first time you’ve been to a gay club?” He asked.
“Since I’ve been out? Yeah.” My only forays into gay clubs had been under the shadow of being found out and had shoved me into a back room with a nameless guy’s mouth wrapped around my dick. To walk in the front door and sign autographs for fans? This was a first.
“Well fuck, man.” Ryker threw an arm around my shoulder and gestured to the mob in front of us. “This is an all-you-can-eat buffet. I hope you’re hungry.”
He let go of me and started walking backward into the crowd. The last I saw of him was a glimpse of his six-pack and tons of tattoos as he took off his shirt.
Etienne appeared to my right, his afro was free tonight and I was itching to get my hands on it. At least I was until he grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head, exposing the long expanse of his torso. Smooth brown skin, hair dusting over his pecs and down his treasure trail, a six-pack he worked hard to maintain.
I clenched my hands at my sides, an automatic gesture created by years of hiding my true desires but Etienne was having none of it. He reached over and grabbed my own shirt, forcing my arms up with his movement to remove the garment until my chest was bare to the heat of the room.
He ran his fingers over my body, lingering for a tantalizing moment on my right nipple before going lower. I sucked in my breath as his arm slipped around my waist and he pulled me tight against him. I wasn’t the only one who was hard.
His breath was hot against my neck as he said in my ear. “Tonight you can touch as much as you want. Don’t worry about anything. Just go with what you feel.”
