Level Hands: Bend or Break, Book 4

by Amy Jo Cousins

  Oh God, it was different. So different, feeling skin on skin, and Rafi was so fucking lucky he’d never done this before with anyone, because he wouldn’t have been able to stop. He got it, pulling back an inch before pushing a little bit farther. He understood why guys who fucked bare didn’t want to give it up. Why PrEP could be dangerous to a guy’s decision-making process, because right now he didn’t ever want to fuck Denny wearing a condom. Never.

  Denny had shoved back reflexively at the first push of Rafi’s dick against him. But his body was shaking now, and when Rafi laid a palm between his shoulder blades and whispered, “Easy,” Denny went limp in front of him with a sigh. Rafi arranged their arms and legs, taking care not to put pressure on Denny’s shoulder.

  Denny’s whole body shivered when Rafi wrapped his fist around Denny’s dick as he pushed forward again, holding tight as Denny vibrated with the strain of taking Rafi in until Rafi’s thighs pressed against the back of Denny’s legs.

  Rafi held still for a minute, wallowing in the heat that swallowed him from tip to balls, the tight grip of Denny’s body making him light-headed. When he moved, oh so slowly, at last, he was ready to turn off his brain and drop deep into the rhythm of sex. But Denny’s back grew poker stiff at his first withdrawal.

  “Does that hurt?”

  “No.” But the word was tight.

  Rafi thrust shallowly again, not wanting to push deep. Denny moaned through clenched teeth but didn’t sink into the motion.

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “Nothing. S’good.”

  “Liar,” he chided softly. “It’s okay. Tell me what you want me to do. Wait? Stop? Go harder?”

  The tension in Denny’s shoulders didn’t ease and he didn’t say a word. Just pushed back like before until Rafi moved again, slow and gentle, his hand stroking Denny’s side and urging him to relax.

  “You know sex isn’t like it is in porn, right?” Denny spoke at last.

  “What?” Rafi grabbed Denny by the chin and turned his head to the side so he could look him in the eyes. Denny bit his lip and locked his gaze on Rafi’s mouth. Rafi let go as they kissed, a hot, slick dance of tongues and teeth. He moved his hand back down to Denny’s ass, thumb dipping into his crack, rubbing against the tight ring of muscle that gripped the base of Rafi’s dick until they both moaned at the intimate touch.

  Shit. Right, focus. Denny was saying something. He stopped kissing Denny, lifting his mouth long enough for Denny to get a few words out.

  “There are…differences. Between porn and real sex.”

  “Why are we talking about porn while I’m fucking you?” he asked, and leaned in for another kiss before grunting in surprise. Jesus. He felt that in Denny’s ass. The clench of muscle on his dick.

  “Say that again,” Denny ordered him. Someone else had felt it too.

  Rafi leaned down, mouth next to Denny’s ear and rumbled out, “Why are we talking about porn while I’m fucking you?” Because he knew, didn’t he…knew how the words made Denny’s stomach tighten, a move he could now feel in his asshole too as he clamped down on Rafi’s dick. Rafi had worked an elbow under himself to hold himself up, and now he used that height to watch their bodies moving together. His brown skin so much darker than Denny’s pale creaminess. Watched the spread of his fingers against Denny’s hip, watched them grip and hold, and he shivered again.

  All Denny could manage was a whisper as Rafi rocked his dick back and forth in his ass, hardly moving at all, but doing his best to light up every nerve in Denny’s body.

  “I don’t want you to be…oh.” Gasping made him hard to follow. “Unh, surprised. If things get messy. I didn’t, um, prepare. I was focused on making you breakfast.”

  Rafi huffed out a surprised laugh. Then dropped his mouth to Denny’s shoulder and pressed a kiss there. “We have this magical thing called a shower. So maybe it’s okay if we shut up now, all right?”

  He slid a hand around Denny’s waist to his dick, and Denny was supposed to shut up, but words were pouring out of him as Rafi started stroking harder with hand and dick together.

  Okay, maybe not words. But sounds and cries and moans and things that could maybe be words if you strung them all together but were most cut-off cries of fuck and yes and nobody needed a translation for that.

  Rafi didn’t say a word. Just fucked him and fucked him and kept moving like he wouldn’t stop, ever. His hand wrapped around Denny’s dick in a grip that almost hurt. Everything hurt, every muscle in Rafi’s body straining, pushing for release. He slid his thumb over the slippery head of Denny’s dick and pressed. And Denny was coming, crying out as he spilled in Rafi’s hand, his body clamping down hard on Rafi’s dick over and over again.

  Denny collapsed on top of his own come as if he didn’t give a damn about that or his shoulder, while Rafi kept fucking him. The idea of it, that he was fucking Denny past the point of his own orgasm, while Denny muttered encouragement under his breath—yes and fuck me and don’t stop—drove Rafi to piston his hips while his brain melted and his balls throbbed. The tension in Rafi’s skin built until it burned, because he was fucking Denny too long and too hard, and any moment now Denny was going to tell him to stop and Rafi would die. But with a gasp and a last surge of heat and pleasure in his balls, Rafi pushed deep and came. Long, pulsing jets that weren’t caught by a condom, but leaked out around his dick as he shuddered and thrust weakly again and again, until his dick softened and his muscles quit, dropping him heaving against Denny’s back.

  Minutes later, Denny shifted out of the wet spot, pushing Rafi over until his ass was hanging off the edge of the mattress. Rafi complained into the mattress. “Leave me more than six inches, dude.”

  “Don’t make me come in the middle of the bed next time.”

  “Next time I’ll bend you over the side and fuck you that way,” Rafi growled at him, already reviving. Energy was building in his bones again, leaving him ready to lick every inch of Denny’s body he’d missed the first time around and seriously considering marking him with his teeth in a more visible spot. “Then I can fucking lie down after.”

  Rafi’s dick tried to get hard at the idea.

  Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not in the next half hour, at least.

  Denny dug his face into the pillow as if he planned on staying there for at least a month or two. “’Kay,” he muttered.

  But Rafi didn’t let him stay there for long. Reminding him they needed to be out the door in short order, Rafi dragged Denny out of bed and hauled him into the shower, where Denny gave him a hard time about hogging all the hot water while acting weirdly self-conscious about being naked in the shower with Rafi.

  “You know, you were just extra naked with me in broad daylight,” Rafi told him, rubbing soap lather across Denny’s chest while he laughed and tugged out of Rafi’s hands.

  “I know,” Denny said, elbowing him to the side. “Are you done here? I can finish without you.”

  Rafi offered him the shower gel. Denny took it from him and looked pointedly past the shower curtain.

  Rafi got himself a clue, finally.

  “What, you don’t want to wash your ass in front of me?” Rafi teased, scraping the bubbles off Denny’s chest and rubbing them across his own pecs.

  Steam plastered Denny’s hair to his forehead. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Giving no warning, Rafi leaned over, grabbed Denny around the waist with one hand and stuck his lather-covered hand up Denny’s butt and washed him.

  He guessed no one had done that to Denny since he was last in diapers, going by his outraged squawks.

  Denny was still sputtering when Rafi stood up again and grinned at him. He bent down and pressed a quick kiss to that open mouth.

  “I’m not afraid of things getting messy. Don’t worry about me.”

  Denny finally gave up. He put down the bath gel a
nd bent over slightly, pulling his butt cheeks apart and letting the shower rinse away the last of the bubbles, glaring at Rafi the entire time.

  “I can take care of my own mess, thank you,” he said primly and swiped the shower gel off the edge of the tub again. “If you’re done, you can get your giant carcass out of here please. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Rafi kissed him again before sliding back the curtain and stepping onto the fluffy pink bath mat. “Okay. But we have to leave in five, so you’re gonna have to make yourself pretty in a hurry.”

  “Shut. Up.” But he could hear it in Denny’s voice, that he was pleased.

  It was stupid to blush because he’d called Denny pretty. Rafi was glad enough to be out of the shower when he realized what his face was doing, though. Denny was pretty, but that was a kind of girlie thing to say about another man. Rafi didn’t want to be pretty, and he didn’t think Denny did either. He wanted to be hot. Handsome. He’d aspired in the past to bang-me-baby heights.

  It was stupid to get a little ball of glowing warmth in his chest, like one of those alien hearts from sci-fi movies, when he thought about Denny cleaning himself up. Making himself pretty. For me.

  Rafi had felt the opposite of invisible for most of his time on campus. He had more attention most days than he’d ever wanted, sticking out in his classroom, on the team, in the dorms. Too tall. Too big. Too dark. Too out of place. He felt the eyes on him constantly, without ever feeling seen. But the warmth of Denny’s attention, the awareness Denny let shine in his eyes when he’d spotted Rafi in the kitchen, watching Denny dance in his underwear. That. The knowing eyes of someone who saw him as more than a stereotype or a surprising exception to said rule. That was something Rafi wasn’t ready to give up.

  It hadn’t occurred to him that maybe Denny needed the same in return. His friend, now lover, always seemed so perfectly in his element everywhere they went at Carlisle, Rafi had stopped thinking of someone who could ever feel shy or awkward or in need of the reassurance that flirting and preening for someone gave the object of the flirtation.

  So if he paid a little extra attention to his hair and picked the tightest of the three T-shirts he’d thrown in his bag, who could blame him? He could show Denny he wanted him so much he thought about keeping Denny’s eyes on him all the time. And if he hadn’t figured out what to do about anything else in his life, figuring out this was a start.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lola was crying, hot tears soaking through his T-shirt as she turned her head into his shoulder. Rafi was stretched out alongside her, careful not to jostle her on the hospital bed.

  “I know it’s stupid, but all I keep thinking is José’s never gonna want to see me in short skirts again. I’m gonna look like Frankenstein.”

  “You are gonna look like a total badass, guapa. Those are your battle scars, and José is gonna fall on his knees and thank God you’re such a tough bitch every time he sees them.”

  She laughed with a wet snort and wiped her eyes with the bandages wrapped around her hands, covering the palms, where most of the skin was scraped off. Lola’s legs weren’t going to be the only place she would scar.

  “And while he’s down there on those knees…” Denny drawled as he walked in the room, hands full of more crap from the vending machines, which Rafi kept telling him didn’t help, even as he ate it until his stomach ached. They’d eaten decent food on Thanksgiving, ordering in an entire multicourse meal with side dishes to Lola’s hospital room, sharing the leftovers with the nurses on duty. But Rafi and Denny had spent most of the week eating crap, and Black Friday was no exception. All of Rafi’s sisters worked in retail or the restaurant business, so the girls were on lockdown at their jobs while he and Denny spent the day with Lola.

  Junk food galore.

  Getting back on the nutritional straight and narrow at school when they returned was going to be a bitch and a half. He could feel the salt cravings from Chicago.

  “Dude. That’s my sister you’re talking about,” Rafi scolded. Lola was cracking up next to him, laughing so hard she was moaning again.

  “Aiii, fuck me, that hurts,” she huffed out when she stopped giggling, hand pressed against her taped ribs.

  “I’m just saying. I’ve met the man, and he always struck me as an excellent multitasker.” Denny winked at Lola as he unscrewed the cap on a Gatorade bottle. He had figured out on his first day she liked the blue and purple Frost ones best.

  Rafi knew, because he’d looked, that the only flavors the hospital vending machines stocked were orange and fruit punch. Which meant Denny went considerably farther afield than the lounge to find the bottles he lined up on Lola’s bedside table on a daily basis.

  Daily. Because Rafi had told Denny he was staying through the holiday after they’d spent the day at the hospital last Sunday, Rafi grilling every doctor and nurse who set foot in Lola’s room, running a nonstop string of Google searches on his laptop in between their visits. At his announcement, made at the corner in front of the hospital while they waited for the light to change on their walk to the bus stop, Denny had nodded okay, not hesitating for a second.

  “I bought an open-ended ticket. I’ll go back when you do.”

  Rafi had had to turn his back, because he didn’t want any of the passing drivers to see him struggling not to cry. Denny had rubbed his back without saying a word.

  “I know we need to talk,” he finally said, leaning into the heat of Denny’s strong body behind him.

  “It can wait. This is Lola time,” Denny had said, and that was it. They’d headed home for sex and sleep, leaving Sofi at the hospital that night, and Mari following behind them after Lola fell asleep again. They’d spent the week pushing the girls to let them cover most of the hospital time because neither of them were working, except on papers they both had due. Nurse Nikki was Rafi’s savior, willing to put up with all kinds of questions during her overnight shifts, and Rafi took advantage of every chance he had to pick her brain. By the middle of the week, she’d joked that he could probably do her job for her. He’d thanked her with another sandwich from the Au Bon Pain on the ground floor of the hospital and gone back to watch a movie with Denny and Lola in her room. Lola was on enough painkillers that she couldn’t track plotlines very well, but a car chase was a car chase. They’d watched a lot of action movies that week. At some point, it occurred to Rafi to ask Denny what he’d told his professors and Coach Lawson.

  Denny lifted an eyebrow and said, like it was no big deal, “I said my boyfriend’s sister was in the hospital and could have died, and he and his family needed me.”

  So that was that. Everybody knew. If Denny had said it like that, like there was nothing at all surprising about his taking off to fly cross-country to be with his boyfriend, Coach Lawson wouldn’t have kept it quiet from the team. Rafi took a deep breath.

  Everyone who’d already believed shit about him, and those who’d only wondered, would know it was true. Or, at least, some of it was true. The part where he was fucking the guy who’d helped to pull the strings to get him into Carlisle.

  Like he’d heard the words inside Rafi’s head, Denny had dropped his chin and stared Rafi down. Rafi might be off the hook for talking about things like when they’d agreed that the word boyfriend could be used, but he apparently wasn’t off the hook for trash-talking himself inside his own damn head.

  Jesus, this letting someone see you all the way inside thing had some serious downsides. Like the scary mind reading.

  Okay, they were more than fucking, and Rafi knew it. They’d crossed all the lines at once, and whatever he’d thought about pulling back and being his own man and changing people’s opinion of him…all of that was nothing but crap.

  Whatever people thought of him, that’s what he was fucking stuck with. If he wanted to change it, fine. But that was going to be his baseline.

  Time to man up and fucking d
eal.

  He pictured Lola in her hospital bed, high as a kite on painkillers and looking at three months of scooting around on the giant wheelie tricycle thing they’d already rented for her to use at home. Because she wasn’t going to be able to put any weight on her leg until almost March. And then months of physical therapy before she’d have a chance at walking again without a cane. Rafi knew the drugs helped, but not with the fear and the depression, and occasional bouts of tears aside, Lola was digging deep, ready to bust her ass to get the life she wanted back.

  Time to woman up, more like it. Lola ain’t the only tough bitch in this family.

  When the flowers arrived at the hospital for Lola from the entire team, minus a few signatures on the card Rafi hadn’t expected to see anyway, he hadn’t let himself hesitate before shooting an email back to Coach Lawson.

  Please thank the guys (and thank you too!) for the flowers. Lola loves them. She told the nurses twenty future Olympians sent her daisies. She didn’t tell her boyfriend that. Thank you also for understanding why I needed to stay, and for giving Denny workout routines for me. The Chicago streets aren’t nearly as much fun to run after getting used to country roads. We’ll be back soon, Rafi.

  Those same flowers were still blooming on Lola’s hospital windowsill, although they were finally looking a little droopy. Rafi made a mental note to bring some fresh ones the next morning when he and Denny came back.

  Lola accepted the drink with the straw Denny slid into it, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks, kid. Do me a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  “Get his ass out of here. Time to go.” Lola jerked her chin at Rafi.

  “We went home early last night!” Rafi protested immediately, although of course that was only so they could be back at the crack of dawn this morning. But he was the only one in the room who didn’t understand what they were talking about, apparently, because Lola and Denny both rolled their eyes at him while shooting each other significant looks.