by K. Webster
I give him a withering look. “I was beating the computer. You want me to beat you too?”
He chuckles as he sits on the floor in front of the bed and grabs the second controller. “You can try.”
I scowl as we reset the game and choose our players. Madden and I are evenly matched on video games, one of the few things we’re on equal grounds with.
“You know it’s normal for a guy to hang out with his friends,” he says, his attention never leaving the game.
“Tell Mom that.”
“I did.”
My eyes widen. Okay. Since when does he take up for me? “Um, thanks?”
“I told her you needed more freedom or she was going to push you away,” he says with a sigh.
“What did she say?”
“She cried.”
Guilt swarms inside me like hornets. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I had the best night of my life.”
“Did you get laid?” Madden teases.
“Almost,” I mutter, embarrassment heating my skin.
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“What stopped you?”
“I’m apparently not ready,” I grumble.
He laughs. “You’ll get there. Patience, my man.”
We’re finally bonding and I can’t even go into detail because it’ll explode the fragile moment.
“Did she kick me out?”
“Nah, Mom will never kick us out. I’m living proof.” His words are bitter.
“When do you start coaching? You can move out then?”
“So eager to get rid of me,” he jokes. “I’ll start this summer for football tryouts. A little before that actually.”
“Do you really have to teach classes too?”
“Yeah, but I won’t know what subject until a few days before the fall semester.”
“Are you excited?”
“Nervous,” he admits.
I scoff. “You, nervous? Why? You played for the freaking NFL. They’re lucky to have you.”
“I played two games before I was injured, Mal. Hardly anything to brag about.”
I pause the game and he turns to look at me. “Madden, you played for the NFL. That’s really cool even if I don’t know the first thing about football. I was your number one fan all two games.”
He gives me a crooked, youthful smile that reminds me of when we were younger. Sometimes he’s shouldered with so much responsibility helping Mom that I forget we’re only five years apart.
“I guess it’s okay,” he says, nodding. “I dread all the teenage girls wanting up on my dick.”
“I bet Mina and Melody will love having to fight for their friends’ attention, who’d rather drool over you than hang with our sisters,” I taunt.
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll die if either of those girls end up in one of my classes.”
“Especially Melody,” I chime in.
“Especially Melody,” he agrees with a chuckle. “But seriously, bro, try to get home by midnight so Mom doesn’t lose her head. If you ever need to bring me along as a cover, just call on your fancy phone.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised by his offer.
“Really.”
We go back to playing the game, but I can’t focus. Not after this. Making not only peace, but steps toward friendship with my brother is huge. And all I can think about is how much I can’t wait to tell Scott about it.
Scott
“Yo, Mal,” I call out. “Get in here.”
I spin around in my chair, overcome with giddiness. It’s been almost two weeks since the epic night where he came to my house and then the blowout with his mom. We’ve had plenty of make-out sessions in my Land Cruiser, but we haven’t had the opportunity to do much more. Normally, I’d be agitated and eager to get laid, but not with Mal. I actually enjoy the small things with him.
“What’s up?” he asks from the doorway. He’s the only guy I know who can make preppy look sexy. His khakis are always perfectly pressed and his Polos tucked in in an almost nerdy way. Yet, with Malcolm, he makes it look fucking hot. “Oh no. You have that look in your eye.”
I stop drooling to glance at his face. “What look?”
“The hungry one. Wolfish. I feel like I’m about to get mauled.”
I can’t help but laugh at him. “Sorry, but you looked hot and it was distracting.”
“I literally look like this every day,” he argues.
“You’re distracting every day.”
His smile is sweet. I love those sweet smiles he rewards me with when I give him compliments. “So you called me in here to tell me I’m hot. Great. I’m going back to work.”
“Wait,” I say with a chuckle. “Work’s over for the day.”
“Why? It’s only two.”
“There’s a conference in San Francisco and I secured an extra ticket to the event. We’re going,” I tell him. “We’ll come back Monday.”
His smile evaporates as panic flashes in his brown eyes. “We’re leaving? Today?”
“Flight is in three hours. Just enough time to pack our bags and head to Denver to catch a plane.”
“I, uh, I…” He chews on his inner lip and shoots me a frantic look.
“Calm down and just call her, Mal. It’s for work. This conference is one I really could use a wingman for. I can take Wade, but he’s fucking worthless. I need you.”
His lips press together as he resigns himself to the idea. “Okay, I’ll call her.” He pulls out his Nokia and dials. “Hi, um, Al. I’m looking for Senna Shaw. It’s her son.” He nods. “Sure, I’ll hold.”
I rise from my chair and walk over to him. When I press a kiss on his forehead, he relaxes.
“Oh, hi, Mom. It’s Mal.” He nods frantically. “I know you’re at work. I’m just letting you know I have a conference to attend in San Francisco for work. Very important. I’ll be back Monday in time for dinner.”
I can hear her yapping on the other end, but I don’t know what she’s saying.
“I’ll be careful. I love you,” he says. Then, he hangs up, a smile brightening his face. “I can go. Holy shit. I can go.”
The excitement on his handsome face has my heart quickening.
“We’re going to have a blast. Time to experience more of the world.”
“I can’t wait.”
By the time we land in San Francisco, Malcolm is bouncing with excitement that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of Mountain Dew he consumed on the flight. Freedom from his mother’s overbearing binds is a good look on him.
“The conference isn’t until tomorrow, so we have tonight to ourselves.” I place my palm on his back and guide him through the airport. “What do you want to do?”
“What is there to do?” he asks. “I’ve never been here before.”
I usher him to a cab and once we’re inside, I tell the cabbie our hotel location—a boutique hotel in North Beach with a great, unobstructed view of Alcatraz Island. As he drives off, I palm Malcolm’s thigh and squeeze it.
“We could have dinner and relax. An early night in…”
“Or?” he mutters, turning so our mouths are nearly touching.
“Or I could take you to a gay bar.” Leaning in, I brush a kiss on his lips. “We don’t stick out so much here. In fact, it’s pretty commonplace.”
“Really?”
“We could make out and the cabbie wouldn’t even look twice.” I reach up and brush my thumb along his jaw. “Wanna bet me?”
“What are we betting?”
I slide my palm around the back of his neck and pull him closer. “I’m going to win, so you may as well give me what I want now.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
With those words, I kiss him deeply. Even if the cabbie wanted to see what we’re doing—which I can guarantee he couldn’t care less—it’s too dark in the back seat. Malcolm lets out a small groan when I nip at his lip. I could devour this man. Tonight, maybe I’ll get the
chance. Reluctantly, I pull away.
“Share a room with me tonight. I booked two rooms, but…” I trail off. “I really want to have you in my bed tonight.”
“I want that too,” he replies, his words breathless.
“Good. I plan on enjoying every second alone I have with you this weekend.”
We walk hand in hand into a gay bar called Rainbow Rambo. The place is loud and bustling with men and even a few women. Several guys look my way, interest glinting in their eyes, but I ignore them as I guide Mal to the bar so I can order us some drinks. We have to stand, squeezed between people as we take our first couple of shots. When two guys get up, we snag their table, giddy to be able to sit down.
“This place is crazy,” Mal yells over the noise. His eyes travel to two guys who are dancing to the music. The bigger guy is sweating as he grinds up against the smaller guy’s ass. Both guys are smiling as they dance.
“Crazy is good.”
The place is smoky and I have the urge to smoke a cigarette, but since it bothers Mal, I refrain. We suck down several more shots until Mal surprises me asking to dance. I gladly abandon our table to take him onto the dance floor.
His ass moves in an enticing way that has me eager to grip his hips and dance to the rhythm he’s set.
“Who knew you were a good dancer,” I say against his ear, my palm sliding to his stomach in a possessive way. “Where’d you learn to dance?”
“My sisters,” he explains as he rubs his ass on me. My dick responds, hardening in my slacks.
“Fuck, Mal,” I growl, nipping at his ear. “You’re making me so fucking hard right now.”
He doesn’t stop his sensual movement and I swear to God he’s going to make me come in my pants. I slide my palm down his stomach and boldly rub his hard dick over his khakis. The club is dark and people are up to their own shit to notice us. His head falls back against my shoulder and he turns, his hot breath on my face.
“That feels good.” His dancing is slowed as he groans at my rubbing.
“Want to continue this back at the hotel in private?”
“Hell, yes.” He makes no moves to leave and if we keep at it, we’re both going to make fools of ourselves on this dance floor.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I pull away and grab his hand. We’re both bordering on drunk. The moment we get outside and the cool air bites at us, I sober a little. Thankfully this place is only a couple of blocks from our hotel. With his hand in mine, we walk down the steep sidewalk together. It feels right—like we’re a real couple. We haven’t made anything official yet. Maybe it’s time we changed that.
Stopping abruptly, I tug Mal to me and kiss his mouth hard. He tastes like tequila and lust. Fuck, he’s delicious.
“Mal, babe,” I rumble, my lips brushing over his. “I really like you.”
He grins—cute as fuck. “I like you too, Scott.”
“This fucking around is nice, but I want more from you. I want there to be an us.”
“Like you want to be my boyfriend?”
“Hell yes,” I growl, kissing his mouth again. “What do you say?”
“I, uh, I…”
“We can still be in secret,” I promise. “I know you don’t want your mom or family to know. I just…I want us to know. I want us to be official.”
His fingers thread into my hair and he pulls me close. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend. Now kiss me.”
I pin him against the side of a building, kissing him deeply. I like the sense of claim I have over him. No other guys get him. Just me. Mine.
“Scott,” he groans. “We have to get to the hotel. I need you.”
I grab his hand and all but drag him down the sidewalk. He laughs, filling my soul with something warm and good. Malcolm just does something to me. Something I really like and want more of.
The hotel lobby feels too bright, making me eager to escape into the privacy of the elevator. As soon as we’re enclosed and headed to the third floor, I pin him again, stealing another kiss. The doors open too soon and I break away.
“How early do we have to be up tomorrow?” he asks as I fish out the keycard.
“The panel I want to see starts at noon, so we can sleep in.”
We push into the suite and he kicks off his shoes. I make my way over to the mini fridge to dig out some miniature bottles of liquor. Mal laughs when I line them up on the coffee table.
“Want to watch a movie?” I ask as I toe off my own shoes and get rid of my shirt.
His eyes hungrily rake down my chest. “Nah, I’d rather watch you.”
“I can’t argue with that. Take your shirt off, babe.”
He grins at the pet name. “I like when you call me that.”
“Good, because I like calling you that. Now take off your shirt before I spank your ass, babe.”
He bites on his plump bottom lip as he yanks off his shirt. “Are you going to fuck me now?”
I fucking wish.
Smirking, I toss him a small bottle. “We’re going to drink and dance. I was enjoying our dancing. Drink that and take off your pants.”
His brown eyes flash with wickedness that gets my dick really hard. I turn on the television to one of the music stations. Some new song I don’t recognize is playing, but when “No Diggity” by Blackstreet comes on, I unbuckle my slacks and push them down my thighs. Malcolm is the wolfish one now as he stalks me like I’m the prey. His pants are gone and he wears a pair of black boxer briefs that mold to his massive cock. I kick out of my pants and walk over to him. Our lips meet hungrily. He slides his palms up my chest and links his fingers behind my neck.
“I love this song,” he mutters between kisses.
I grip his ass and pull him closer. “Me too.”
We dance through several songs, pausing only to drink. Both of us are sweating, which gives me the bright idea to go out on the balcony.
“It’s cool out here. Come on,” I rumble, grabbing his hand.
As soon as I slide open the door, the air chills me to the bone. Mal lets out a cute squeal but doesn’t chicken out. I lead him to one of the lounge chairs and then sit. Without being told, he slides into my lap, straddling me. It’s cold, but we’re still sweaty. Our kissing is slower as we take the time to touch and grind.
“Are you having fun?” I ask, pulling away to look at him.
He shivers. “Yeah. You?”
“The best. Come here.”
I pull him against my chest and hold him, my fingertips dancing up and down his spine. “I can’t fuck you, Mal. Not tonight.”
He stiffens in my embrace. “Why not?”
“Same as before. Your ass isn’t ready. You could fuck me if you really want, but I can’t fuck you.”
“But you don’t like being the bottom,” he breathes. “I don’t know.”
“We can wait until you’re ready,” I assure him, kissing the side of his head. “I’m just letting you know I’ll bottom for you. Having a boyfriend is about compromise.”
His fingers drum on my shoulder. “I’m not going to lie…the thought terrifies me. What if I hurt you? What if you hate it the whole time? What if—”
“I would never hate anything with you,” I assure him. “And I’ve done it before. I can take it. It’s not my preferred position, but until we get you ready, I’m okay with doing it if it means being closer to you. Only if you want to, though.”
He lifts up and sears me with a heated gaze. “Right now, I want to try sucking your cock, Scott. Can I?”
“Hell fucking yes,” I growl. “You never have to ask this man if he wants to have his dick sucked. The answer is always yes.”
His laughter echoes into the cool night air. “Can I do it here? Outside?”
“You’re the boss here,” I tease.
“I like the sound of that.” He scoots down the lounge chair and then hooks his fingers in my Calvin Kleins. Slowly, he pulls them until my dick springs free. Our eyes are locked as he yanks them down my l
egs and tosses them aside. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I bet you can figure it out,” I breathe, fisting my dick.
He swats away my hand. “Mine.”
Possessive. I fucking love that.
With newfound determination, he grips my dick and bends forward. The warmth of his breath tickles my dick before his tongue makes it there. A shiver trembles through me. His tongue flicks out and licks at the slit that beads with pre-cum.
“I like the way you taste,” he murmurs before circling his tongue around my crown.
“You’re a tease, Mal.”
He fucking kisses the tip of my dick and my heart squeezes at the sweetness of it. “Just getting acquainted with my friend here,” he says before wrapping his plump lips around me.
My hand flies to the back of his head and I have to restrain myself from pushing him down over my dick. He takes my enthusiasm as encouragement and does exactly that. Sliding further to see how far he can take me. The tip of my cock hits his throat and he gags.
“You’re doing fucking great,” I praise, knowing he’ll worry about the gagging being a turnoff.
He hums against me as he bobs up and down. Then, almost tentatively, he fondles my balls. God, it feels good. I stroke his hair, enjoying this erotic moment with my boyfriend. He makes loud slurping noises that electrify me. Never in a million years would I have thought when I first saw Malcolm step out of that Trans Am that he’d one day be sucking on my dick.
Jesus.
I lose all sane thoughts when he tries to take me in his throat again.
“Babe,” I groan. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
His bobbing intensifies, urging me into climax. My balls tighten before I abruptly spill into his hot, eager mouth. He gags but attempts to swallow me down. Cum runs down my shaft. I hiss when he licks his tongue up from my balls to my crown, collecting what escaped.
“Oh fuck,” I mutter. “You’re really good at that.”
He lifts up and smiles. “Really?”
“Really.”
When he starts shivering, I know we need to get back inside. “Come on. Let’s shower and then we can see where the night takes us.”
