#Rev (GearShark #2)

by Cambria Hebert

  What impressed me more about Gamble was his willingness to listen. Even though he was extremely successful, he didn’t sit at the table and act like he knew it all. He was eager to bounce ideas with me. Hell, he even asked my opinion on a few things. I wasn’t nearly as experienced as him; I was basically still in diapers compared to him. But it didn’t seem to matter.

  He liked blunt, so that’s what I gave him. I asked him why.

  His response?

  I was young and hungry. I was almost fresh out of college, and I had a vested interest in this budding revolution of racing because Drew was at the center of it. In his experience, sometimes actual work experience wasn’t as good as a fresh eye and a new outlook. Beyond that, I’d been in the circles with Drew for a while now. I’d been in the indie world, and since I wasn’t a driver, I probably had a different perspective, a perspective that would be useful on the business side.

  He was right.

  Instead of making me feel like I was the shit and maybe had an inside track to some hotshot job in the division, the whole night talking with Gamble lit a fire inside me. I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to show Gamble he was right—I was young and hungry. I was motivated, and I did want to look beyond just the drivers at the business as a whole.

  After all, a man isn’t defined by his words, but by his actions.

  It was late when Joey dropped us off at the front entrance of the hotel. It practically glowed with a golden halo because of all the lighting. I wondered if they did it on purpose so the outside hue went with the gold accents used inside.

  Even though we ended up meeting tonight, the meeting for tomorrow was still on. It ended up a good thing we had some extra time because after all the talking we did at dinner, there was more work to be done.

  Drew and Joey were going to go out on the track for some drive time, and I was going to spend some time in the pro headquarters, which was also being used for the new division. I wanted to look over the endorsement deals coming in for Drew, his schedule, and his financials. I knew he wanted to quit his job, but I wanted to make sure it was a smart move first.

  We were both quiet on the way up to the room, walking past the front desk, small kitchen that offered coffee and water around the clock, and the “business” center, which was basically a section of the huge lobby walled off with large sheets of glass with several computers, printers, and free Wi-Fi for the guests.

  The second we walked into the room, my eyes went right to his cell, which lay left behind on the wet bar. I wasn’t sure if he turned it off, and I didn’t ask. It really didn’t matter. He was ignoring it regardless.

  Maybe I’d ignore mine, too.

  On impulse, I strode across the room, pulled my phone out of my jeans, and tossed it down beside his.

  When I turned back, Drew was leaning against the closed door with a grin on his face. The way he was leaning made the black leather jacket fall off the sides of his body and accentuate his long, lean waist. His jeans rode low on his hips and skimmed over his thighs, emphasizing the strength in his lower half.

  I couldn’t see his hands because they were behind him, but I imagined his palms flat against the door, like he was bracing himself for me.

  Because he knew.

  He knew I was coming for him.

  My eyes ripped from his body and flashed up to his. The dimple in his cheek deepened, and my tongue ran over my teeth. Blond hair fell over his forehead, threatening to conceal one of his blue eyes.

  Sexy. Powerful. Unshaven.

  And there was this thread… a small imperfection at the hem of his jeans. Even though he literally made a mouthwatering sight standing there in our private room, my eyes kept going back to that string.

  The hem was slightly too long, so the bottom of the material (at the back of his heel) dragged the ground. Over time, the fabric began to fray with the repeated action of rubbing against pavement.

  Right now, one small, white string stretched out across the floor beside his foot.

  Everyone’s jeans did it. Mine, his, yours. It wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t anything that deserved so much thought.

  Except the presence of that string made me want to tug it. To see what would begin to unravel if I did. I rather liked the thought of unraveling Drew.

  Of pulling that thread until there was nothing left.

  “You know how I was talking about having a clothing-optional night earlier?” Drew’s voice was like a good bottle of wine. Smooth, slightly sweet, and didn’t go to your head until after you’d drunk it all.

  I nodded. There was a fire building low in my stomach. This tingling, burning sensation that was sort of addictive in the sense I wanted it to spread. I wanted to be consumed.

  “I changed my mind.”

  I lifted one eyebrow. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say. But I wanted to hear it anyway.

  “No options anymore. Naked. Now. All night.”

  Well. Wasn’t he a bossy bastard?

  I liked it.

  I really fucking did.

  I pushed off the floor. I needed the extra momentum to push me closer to him faster. As I prowled toward the door, I started peeling off my clothes.

  I took pleasure in tossing the fabric all over the space, owning it all, littering the entire room with sexual intention.

  When I reached him, all that remained on my body was a pair of unbuttoned jeans. One of Drew’s hands appeared between us, and one finger dipped beneath my boxers and rubbed over the wiry hair leading down to my cock.

  While he teased, I unbuttoned his jeans with deliberate care and then took my time sliding the zipper down over his already erect dick.

  Once his pants were fully open, I helped him pull of his jacket and shirt. Before sliding down his body, I pressed my palms against his shoulders and dragged them down his arms, all the way until our hands linked together and we stood there chest to chest, holding hands.

  “There’s a lot of shit I like about you, Forrester,” I spoke. “But right now, my favorite is when I stare into your eyes, you stare right back.”

  “I see you, Trent,” he answered.

  “Even if I went blind right now, I’d still see you,” I echoed.

  The side of his mouth curved up. “Always gotta one-up me, don’t ya, frat boy?”

  I laughed low and pulled my hands from his. The chain he always wore around his neck, the one with the speedometer pendant on the end, was my target. I lifted it, and he dipped his chin so I could pull it over his head.

  “We’re not gonna need speed tonight.” I set it aside.

  His back hit the wall when I slid down his body. Knowing what I was going for, his hips jutted out, and I laughed deep in my throat. Drew loved getting head. I might even argue he liked it more than French fries.

  My knees hit the floor once his shoes and pants were gone, and I knelt before his steely dick, which stood out from his body at attention.

  The weight of his balls in my palm was now familiar, and I squeezed gently, cupping them and using my fingers to gently massage the base of his cock.

  He made a satisfied sound, and his palms flattened on either side of his hips against the door. I took his cock slow, wrapping my lips around the taut flesh and slipping down, taking him deep.

  When his tip hit the back of my throat, he muttered something incoherent. I pulled back slightly and began to work his rod, making sure it was good and slick and he was good and worked up before pulling back almost completely to suck just the head past my lips and graze my teeth on the sensitive spot on the underside.

  He shuddered in my mouth, and I grabbed his hips. Using my hands, I started guiding his body into a rhythm that allowed him to essentially fuck my mouth.

  After a few minutes of my guidance, one of his hands slid into my hair and gripped while his hips took over all on their own.

  As he thrust himself into my mouth, I massaged his balls and caressed his inner thighs. The hand tangled in my hair started to tremble, and his hip
s moved faster. My lips tightened around his quivering dick, and he whispered my name.

  I liked when he whispered my name.

  His orgasm exploded across my tongue. His cock literally pumped like its life depended on it. Drew collapsed against the door, and I moved with him, gripping his hips and taking over since he was no longer able to move.

  I drank him down. Taking in a part of him was natural to me, as if he were an acquired taste I never had to actually acquire.

  I sucked him dry and then lifted my head. His chest heaved, and the instant my mouth released him, his body began to melt down the door, sliding into a practical puddle until his ass hit the floor.

  I sank back onto my ass, sitting directly in front of him, spreading my legs so he was in between them.

  “We need to get our own place,” he said, a little out of breath.

  “It definitely would have some advantages.” I agreed.

  “Tonight was a good night.” His chin came down so we could meet eyes.

  “Yeah.” I let myself grin. I honestly didn’t expect it to go so well. Trying to guess someone’s reaction to a male-male relationship was like trying to figure out why a dog’s farts smelled so bad.

  Though I tried not to show it, I’d been worried. How could I not be? Drew was risking everything. I honestly didn’t know what I would’ve done if Gamble had turned him away.

  It probably wouldn’t have been pretty.

  “You up for the interview with GearShark?” Drew asked.

  “Absolutely.” I was looking forward to it. It was what I wanted to begin with, a chance to carve out a place in this life for Drew and me.

  “You were on fire tonight at dinner. You really like all that business stuff.”

  I made a face. “You get your adrenaline from cars; I get mine from closing deals.”

  “Graduation is coming.” He pointed out.

  “Amen.”

  He smiled, then turned serious. “So how about it?”

  “How about what?”

  “How about we get our own place.”

  One minute my heart was beating along just fine, and then it stuttered. I felt it trip and then restart. He wanted to move in together.

  A serious case of homesickness washed over me. Just the idea of permanently occupying the same place as him made me long for that home. As if all along I’d known that’s where I belonged, but I’d only just gotten the directions.

  “You just want me to blow you every day.” I joked because it was the only way I could process what he suggested.

  It was so intensely craved, I almost hurt.

  To belong somewhere, to someone, and for that blessing to meet me every day at the door…

  “You already do that.” Drew pointed out, humor in his tone.

  It sounded odd, the humor, because even though I’d just made a joke, there wasn’t anything funny about this.

  “You really want to get a place?” I asked.

  “I really do.”

  “Me, too.” Damn. My voice was hoarse.

  Drew stood and held out a hand to me. “C’mon, I feel like taking a shower with the door open.”

  I chortled and placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I started toward the bathroom first, but he pulled me back around.

  His arms were strong when they wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me in for a tight hug. I stepped in a little closer to soak in as much of Drew as I could while returning the hold.

  “Thanks for being there tonight,” he whispered in my ear.

  Like I’d be anywhere else.

  “I’ll always be here for you. Best friend’s honor,” I vowed. Because even though tonight was about us and the part of our relationship that was more than friends, the kind of support we needed for something like coming out to Gamble could only be the kind a best friend could give.

  Drew pulled back but kept hold of my hand to lead me past the king-size bed and into the bathroom. “I hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight.” He reached out and grabbed my cock right through my open jeans.

  As if.

  With Drew, sleep was always the last thing on my mind.

  Drew

  A single touch.

  It contained enough power to move mountains.

  Enough power to rip apart families.

  Trent

  I’d never seen him like this.

  While I welcomed all the firsts I experienced with Drew, I wished this didn’t have to be one of them.

  In some ways, I’d grown used to living in the moment with him. It seemed for a while, it was all we had. Stolen moments, shared looks. Minutes of unrestrained feeling and unbridled chemistry. Ever since he sat beside me in Screamerz that first time, our relationship was defined by moments.

  Moments were fleeting… weren’t they?

  Not really.

  Because the feelings and impressions single moments left as imprints stayed long, long after the moments were gone. It was those imprints we carried into future moments. They shaped us, influenced us. Conditioned us.

  I was afraid.

  Not really a new feeling, I know, but just because I knew it didn’t mean it was any easier. If anything, the fear got harder. I was in so deep, tangled so tight, I’d never get out, and that’s what scared me. Because if today went terribly wrong, I’d be twisted in a lot of upcoming moments that would break me.

  I didn’t know Drew’s father, not enough to make any kind of guess on how he’d react to us. Sure, I’d met his parents a couple times when they came to town, but it was never more than a casual introduction.

  I knew they were good people. Of course they were; they raised Drew and Ivy, who were both awesome. They’d been strict as parents, and they had remarkable ideals. They loved their kids, though, and to me, that was most important.

  Still, the closer we got to Drew’s North Carolina home, the more I began to doubt love was enough. I knew firsthand sometimes all love did was complicate things and hurt people more.

  By the time we stepped off the plane and climbed into a rental car, Drew became more withdrawn as the miles between us and his childhood dwindled. Though it worried me, I knew it wasn’t me he was withdrawing from. It was from the situation, from the emotions erupting inside him. Right now, all he could do was retreat inside his head; it was the only way he could try and process.

  At first, it freaked me out. I’d asked him a question, and he didn’t reply. So I asked him again. When he still didn’t answer, I wondered what I’d done to piss him off. Nothing. Even if there were something, he wouldn’t give me the silent treatment.

  No offense to the ladies, but men didn’t operate like that.

  Fine, that was a broad generalization. Drew and I didn’t operate like that.

  He simply hadn’t heard me. He was deep in the confines of his busy mind. So I left him there. Trying to pull him out would be like waking a sleepwalker.

  I used the time to think. What would I say if they didn’t accept us? What would I say if they did? Would this be awkward? Would they look at me as someone looks at a stranger when Drew told them he loved me?

  That’s what I feared the most.

  Becoming a stranger to people to whom I would have otherwise just been me. It’s like everything I was, the college student, the athlete, the friend, the son… the man—all of that would somehow be cancelled out when people found out where the heart inside my body lay.

  I was still the same.

  Drew was still the same.

  So far, we’d been lucky. We’d yet to become strangers to people we knew. How long would it last? How much luck did one man get?

  Surely I’d used up my lifetime allowance. I had Drew; he was like the jackpot of luck.

  After our meeting at Gamble Speedway, we’d driven to the airport for the quick flight to North Carolina. The Fastback was parked at headquarters where the pros kept their cars. There was no way we’d leave the car in the long-term lot at the airport, so Joey had driven us, drop
ping us off right at the curb near the terminal.

  It wasn’t going to be a long trip. We were catching a plane back tomorrow night. I had classes Monday morning and frat shit all next week.

  GearShark jumped on the interview when we called. Well, technically, Emily, the journalist, jumped on the interview. Even though we didn’t say what it was about, she knew, and of course she wanted the scoop. I wasn’t surprised. I expected it. I was surprised she wanted me as the main feature of the article. I wasn’t the racing star. But it was what we’d all discussed Friday night at dinner, and it was what Drew wanted.

  I was waiting on a call back from her on the schedule and details. However, the interview would be soon. Emily didn’t want any chance one of us would get cold feet.

  I glanced at Drew and frowned. Is he getting cold feet right now?

  Drew grew up in the mountains of North Carolina where the trees were tall and thick, the landscape was green, and the dialect was unmistakable. His parents were well off, not millionaires or anything, but they lived a comfortable life. They didn’t live in a totally secluded area; it was definitely within driving distance of a more populated area, but the land they owned and the fact their home sat deep on the property made a man forget they didn’t have to drive hours for a gallon of milk or a pizza.

  I wouldn’t necessarily call where they lived a farm because there weren’t livestock roaming around and tractors in the field, but there was a definite feel of country here.

  The road stretching across their property was paved and well maintained. I drove slow across it so I could gaze at the open fields, tall grasses (yes, even coming out of the winter season), thick areas of tall pine trees, and a distant view of majestic mountains.

  The speed I’d chosen was also of benefit to Drew. He needed all the time he could get.

  Soon, a ranch-style house came into view. It was a big house, only one story so it sprawled out horizontally. It was a nice place with a natural stone exterior and wide porch with an arched cover over the double front door. On the cement porch were oversized planters filled with greenery that spilled over the sides and didn’t appear bothered that it wasn’t quite summer out. ‘Course, around here it didn’t matter. This was the South. It was sunny and bright and approaching eighty degrees.