Edge Jump

by Elizabeth Noble

  Don’t stop. Please. Need more. Need!

  “Oh, I think you’ve had quite enough for tonight.” Brett kissed Rylan’s cheek while stroking his hair. “Such an amazing boy.”

  “Need a hand?” Mike’s voice sounded far off and the question flitted through Rylan’s head for only a second until it was chased away by soft applause. He tried to figure out why Brett would need help?

  “That’d be great. Thanks.” Brett slipped one arm around Rylan’s waist and as Rylan was released from the Saint Andrew’s cross he was pulled snuggly against Brett. “Deep breaths for me. That’s it. You in there?”

  Rylan realized Brett was easing him from the cross’s platform. His arms hung uselessly at his sides and his legs were so loose and wobbly he’d have fallen had not Brett been holding him. He rested his head on Brett’s shoulder and sighed out a long moan.

  “Here’s a blanket.” It was Mike again. Rylan thought about asking why he was offering a blanket but it was too much effort to do that and inch his arms around Brett’s waist.

  “Thanks,” Brett said then talked near Rylan’s ear. “How’re you doing?”

  Rylan felt the muscles of Brett’s arms and chest move as something was wrapped around his shoulders. He missed the warm, sweat covered skin he’d been leaning against. “I need more.” Rylan managed a few deep breaths and added, “Sir.” Mike and Brett both chuckled. Rylan loved how it made Brett’s body move against him. “I want you to plow me through a wall.” His voice was a bit stronger this time.

  “Soon enough.” Brett turned Rylan and put one arm around his shoulders, urging him toward the wall and a chair sitting there. Rylan stumbled, but Brett caught him easily. “Easy.”

  Brett shifted Rylan to his side and bent down. His other arm went behind Rylan’s knees and he was scooped up. Brett carried him to the chair and gently set him down. “Stay there for a sec while I tidy up our station.” He cracked open a bottle of water and pushed it into Rylan’s hands. “Drink.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rylan’s voice was steadier. He leaned back in the chair, rested his elbow on the arm, and sipped the water while he idly watched Brett spray down what they’d used and wipe it off with paper towels from the plastic bin. The hard plastic chair reminded Rylan of every welt and mark Brett gave him.

  With every sip he felt more himself. He leaned to the side to relieve the sting on his ass from the chair seat. That caused the plug to shift and he was rewarded with a nice zing of pleasure.

  Brett finished and hunkered down in front of Rylan, one hand resting on each of Rylan’s knees. “Drink up and then we’ll let everyone here see how nice your ass looks.”

  “You two must ‘a been together a while and do this often,” Mike said.

  Brett shook his head and pulled his shirt on, buttoned it up and smirked. “First time.”

  “Oh. Wow. Lucky,” Mike said and hurried off to another couple.

  Rylan looked up expectantly, but Brett didn’t offer any explanations. Instead he moved the blanket from Rylan’s shoulders and held out one hand. “Time to go, boy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rylan took Brett’s hand and stood up.

  “Wait there,” Brett said. He held one arm out, fingertips touching Rylan’s shoulder for a few seconds to steady him. Then he reached into the duffle and took a tube of aloe out. Rylan realized that’s what Brett had spread over his ass after he’d completed Rylan’s paddling. More of the thick stuff was applied. “This is not only soothing but gives your ass a nice sheen.” He finished collecting their belongings and took Rylan’s hand again.

  It was disappointing that there weren’t a few finger flicks or swats to his ass while the cream was applied. Rylan decided he was plain greedy about some things. He finished off the water and dropped the bottle in a recycling bin near the door as he followed Brett.

  More than one set of eyes turned to watch them. Rylan caught sight of his backside in one of the many mirrors around the dungeon. There were distinct hand marks, yet he didn’t remember Brett using his hands. His thighs and back were covered with little, red marks, his cheeks were pink and his skin glistened from oil, aloe and sweat.

  By the time they reached the lockers Rylan was shivering. He let go of Brett’s hand and rubbed his arms.

  “Are you okay?” Brett asked. His voice was low, sultry and edged with concern.

  “A little cold maybe. Otherwise I’m great. That was the best feeling ever! I remember one time I wiped on the ice, really bad, was bruised from my knee to my shoulder and this felt even better,” Rylan’s words gushed out unexpectedly. He’d never really admitted to anyone how much even minor aches and pains turned him on.

  Brett put one hand on the back of Rylan’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. “I do aim to please.” He was so sweet, and attentive, helping Rylan dress before pulling him close with an arm around Rylan’s shoulders and guiding him to the car.

  Rylan nestled into the passenger seat and watched the cars pass them going in the opposite direction. “I’m going to be thinking of you all during that plane flight.” He lifted one hand to rub his nipples but Brett’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist.

  “No touching.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Rylan murmured. He reached over, then slipped his fingers between Brett’s thighs. “May I? Please?”

  Brett licked his lips and nodded. “Don’t get too crazy, I’m driving.” He slid down slightly in the seat and moved his right leg to give Rylan more room.

  Rylan spent the rest of the drive moving his fingertips over Brett’s cock, still encased in his jeans. He used a light touch and even strokes. When Brett’s breathing deepened, sped up and his knuckles went white on the steering wheel, Brett said softly, “Enough.” Rylan folded his hands obediently in his lap while they pulled into the parking garage.

  The cooling off Rylan experienced on the way to their room was undone in seconds after their room door was closed behind them. As soon as Brett turned away to hang up his coat Rylan wasted no time in stripping off his boots and clothes.

  “How you doing, still okay?” Brett asked as he turned to face Rylan. His eyebrows raised and a slow smile spread over his face. “Wow.” He swallowed hard. “It was one thing seeing you in that club, but here, just for me…”

  Rylan caught Brett’s gaze then let his own slide slowly downward, smiling when Brett gulped in a harsh breath. He watched the flurry of activity created by Brett’s clothing hitting the floor. Rylan ventured a glance up to see Brett wearing nothing but his jeans. His wide chest sported an alluring flush under the dusting of dark hair, his lips were dark red and moist and his eyes smoldered.

  Brett’s shirt was gripped in his fist. He cocked his head and threw it to the armchair, then grabbed the bottle of lube before closing the distance between them in a few long strides. Heat swirled around Rylan and enveloped him as Brett’s arm encircled him and pulled Rylan against him. The sweat between them created a slight sting and the skin around Rylan’s nipples prickled and twitched. It felt so damn good.

  Rylan leaned back against Brett’s grip so his nipples brushed over Brett’s chest, and moaned. Brett chuckled, dropped the bottle, and used his free hand to grip the hair at the back of Rylan’s head, pulling him in for a crushing kiss. Brett’s tongue pushed between Rylan’s lips and around the inside of his mouth. At the same time, Brett pressed his thigh between Rylan’s legs and into Rylan’s balls making Rylan gasp and quiver. When Brett’s hand moved down and squeezed Rylan’s ass it was impossible to keep his hips from jerking back and forth. Brett broke their kiss and Rylan garbled out nonsense noises.

  Turning him quickly, Brett braced Rylan against the wall and made short work of the buckles that held all the leather to him. He nipped along Rylan’s shoulders while he twisted the plug, easing it out. Next the leather strap around Rylan’s balls was removed. Brett used his body to hold Rylan in place while he unzipped his jeans and shoved them down. He retrieved the bottle of lube and Rylan heard the tear of a condom foil.

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nbsp; Rylan’s palms were flat against the wall, he used them as leverage to shove his hips back. Brett’s thick cock slipped inside Rylan, going deep and pulling out to thrust back in repeatedly. Brett’s harsh grunts matched Rylan’s and his chest thumped against Rylan’s back. He moved one hand to Rylan’s cock, pulling, twisting, and stroking.

  “Please, sir, please, sir,” Rylan babbled. His balls tightened and a burn and tingle started at the base of his spine.

  Brett sucked on Rylan’s ear for a second then ordered, “Come now.”

  Fire and pleasure burned through Rylan, his body jerked. Brett alternated between squeezing his balls hard and tugging his cock. He pressed his forehead to Rylan’s shoulder and rammed with more force into Rylan, trapping him against the wall. Rylan’s ass throbbed inside and out, Brett’s cock pulsated within him and Rylan never wanted the sensations to stop.

  All too soon Rylan’s body quieted and he felt Brett relax behind him. Brett eased out and turned Rylan, this time kissing him softly and gently then pulled him into a tender hug. “That was fucking amazing,” Brett whispered.

  “I loved every second. Thank you, sir.” Rylan rested against Brett.

  They stood there, holding each other, until Rylan’s legs began to tremble and he was overcome with exhaustion.

  “Come on.” Brett took Rylan’s hand and led him to the bathroom. Water was run into the bathtub and Brett helped Rylan climb into the warm water. At first it stung, but Rylan didn’t have the energy for another erection. Eventually his throbbing nerve endings settled down and the water became soothing. Rylan stretched out and leaned back while Brett moved the washcloth over him for a few minutes. Slipping one arm around Rylan’s back, Brett half lifted him out of the tub. A thick, warm towel was wrapped around Rylan before he was scooped up and carried to the bed.

  Brett settled Rylan under the comforter, pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and turned out the light. Rylan was too exhausted and satiated to be very surprised Brett didn’t crawl into bed with him. He was, however disappointed and maybe, if he was honest with himself, a little angry.

  Chapter 8

  Spending much time with Rylan during his last day in Vancouver proved difficult. While Brett was welcome at the rehearsals, the meetings were strictly private. That situation was both frustrating and a relief. A little time away from Rylan was good and helped clear Brett’s head. On the other hand, Rylan seemed off and a little grumpy that morning, which prickled Brett’s protective side and caused some concern.

  While Rylan rehearsed his new solo routine at one end of the rink, Brett involved himself in friendly races with a few of the other performers at the other. They’d discussed how Rylan wasn’t thrilled about being out there on the ice, performing alone. The fact was, Rylan wouldn’t refuse Lars and Kathryn Sweeny, or even try to negotiate with them. Brett wasn’t sure he agreed, but it wasn’t his choice to make. He attributed some of Rylan’s mood to his new role in the troupe. Some, but not all.

  Brett was having fun skating, but he kept a constant eye on Rylan. When Rylan executed a waltz jump, landed slightly wrong, and hit the ice, slamming down on one hip, Brett winced. That surely wouldn’t improve Rylan’s mood since it was such a basic jump. Brett was sure the fall doubly hurt considering the fact Rylan’s ass was still pink this morning and his muscles were likely achy.

  Rylan rolled onto his butt then to his feet, rubbing his rear a few times before continuing with his routine. The stab of guilt Brett felt passed quickly when he saw one corner of Rylan’s mouth twitch to a smile as he skated, giving Brett hope Rylan was cheering up.

  Rylan was addictive and it would be easy for Brett to fall into a life with him. The problem with all addictions was it was too easy to fall too deep too fast. Would Brett be able to lift himself out of that addiction, would he even want to? Brett held a sincere belief the answers to those questions was a resounding ‘no’.

  After rehearsal, there was a dinner with the rest of the performers and crew from Celebration on Ice before everyone split up and returned to their rooms. As he had been the entire day, Rylan was still quieter than normal. Brett considered it was due in part to the after effects of their trip to Frisky Flirts, a crash from Rylan’s high during their scene.

  The fact was, Brett felt there was more going on in Rylan’s head.

  He made an extra effort to be attentive and caring to Rylan while they socialized throughout the evening. Rylan would agreeably hold Brett’s hand and accept his subtle gestures of affection, and in each case return them.

  Finally, when they were alone in their room, Brett screwed up his courage while Rylan stacked his luggage near the door.

  “Are you alright?” Brett asked softly.

  “Huh?” Rylan stood straight and turned away from his task to face Brett.

  “That was a pretty intense scene last night. Sometimes people…” He really didn’t know how to express what he was thinking.

  “That’s all I am to you, an intense scene?” Rylan’s terse words were bullets to Brett’s chest.

  “What the hell? No. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have attended social events and included you in everything concerning Celia with the cops.” Brett had the feeling he should be angry, but in reality, he was confused. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you in some—”

  “No. Yes.” Rylan stopped and licked his lips.

  “Your safeword.”

  “That’s not it.” Rylan stopped again and huffed, took a few deep breaths and glared at the floor. “The scenes, the sex is great. More than great.”

  “But?” Brett ground out. When Rylan didn’t say anything, Brett snapped, voice raising. “What is the problem?”

  “Is there someone else?” Rylan’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  That threw Brett for a loop. He studied Rylan carefully before answering. An idea of what might be the problem was forming. “There are—were—casual meets. Physical only.” It was the truth too. Yes, he and George were friends, but they could stop the scenes and still be friends. Truth be told, Brett was surprised George had continued their meetings this long. What Brett had with Rylan was much, much different. He added quickly, “I didn’t plan to continue as long as you and I…” They were what?

  “We’re what?” Rylan echoed Brett’s thought so quickly it was scary. “What are we, Brett? Are we an extended one-night stand hook-up? Friends with benefits? You give off some seriously mixed signals. One minute I think ‘wow, this guy wants a real relationship’ and the next you act as if when tomorrow comes it’ll be ‘had a great time, maybe we’ll do this again soon’ and I’m sick of trying to guess which it is.” By the time he’d finished Rylan was shouting.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I never meant to give you the impression I did anything other than care for you—a lot!” Brett ran one hand through his hair and tried to calm down. “I’ve always thought we were friends and now we have more. I was hoping to see where that goes.”

  Rylan pointed to the pull-out bed. “Then why, after we have a great time, in whatever capacity, do you sleep over there?”

  “Rylan…I don’t want…no I can’t move that fast.”

  “You’re acting as if I’m proposing marriage!” Rylan snapped. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “It is to me,” Brett said quietly.

  Rylan opened his mouth then shut it again and turned away biting his lip.

  “I can’t rationalize it and I know it’s a simple thing and it’s weird I feel that way…but I’m not ready. If you can’t understand it, I get that, but I’m asking that you respect my feelings. I need one step at a time and I’m sorry if that hurts you, but that’s how I’m wired.” Brett was being irrational, he knew that. He also couldn’t get pulled in so fast because that was what he wanted more than anything.

  Rylan glared at him for a few seconds before spinning around and sprinting to the door.

  “Rylan!” Brett was only a few paces behind him.

 
; Rylan scooped something off the floor just inside the door then flung it open and charged into the hallway looking one way then doing a one-eighty to stare in the opposite direction.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Someone just threw this under our door. They were right here.” Rylan growled.

  Brett dashed down the hall to the point another corridor intersected. There wasn’t another soul in the hallway other than he and Rylan. He turned and spread his arms wide. The color leeched from Rylan’s face as he stared down at the postcard he gripped. He twisted on his heels and returned to their room. Brett caught up to him, shutting and locking the door behind them.

  Looking over Rylan’s shoulder, Brett read the postcard.

  Stop being such a fag man-whore. Start respecting Celia and the love you will have between you until you die too.

  Brett snatched the postcard and turned it over. Instead of the street where Frisky Flirts was located, this one was Rylan in the final pose of his tribute routine. The performance company always had shots of highlights of each tour stop printed on postcards.

  “Do you know when they released these?” Brett held up the postcard.

  “This afternoon I think.” Rylan turned and faced Brett. “Whoever left it couldn’t have gotten off the floor so fast.”

  “I bet more than half the rooms on this floor have someone from Celebration on Ice staying in them.” Rylan’s voice shook and when Brett put one arm around him and tugged him close, Rylan offered zero resistance.

  Brett moved so they were close enough to the bed, and he sat Rylan on it. Then he laid the postcard carefully on the night table. “We shouldn’t touch it anymore.”

  Rylan nodded. “We need to tell Detective Swift.” He reached for the phone and the detective’s business card sitting beside it.

  It didn’t take long before Rylan was speaking to her. Despite the late hour, Lindsey Swift was at their hotel room in less than an hour.

  “Tell me exactly what happened.” As she spoke she pulled on rubber gloves and slipped the postcard into a clear, zip bag.