Man On (The Black Jack Gentlemen)

by Liz Crowe

  His own recently neglected skin, so eager for Nicco’s, burned with memory. “Yeah. And?”

  “I mean, adorable little former virgin, he has a problem, a sickness. He has to get off nearly constantly and typically doesn’t care how, or with whom, as long as he can come—over and over again. Surely you’ve noticed his…insatiability…you know, on your little vacations.”

  Parker shifted, nervous and angry at this asshole standing at his door, making him feel dirty, like a used condom. Defensiveness obvious in his voice, he replied, “Yeah. I did. I liked it. You can go now.” But, unbidden, a fleeting memory shot across his brain. They’d gone to plenty of nightclubs, some hetero, several not. And a trip to one in Paris had resulted in their first legit argument.

  Parker hadn’t liked the way Nicco’s eyes raked the room, scanning it constantly. Then how they’d narrow, darken as he found an attractive woman—and the place had no shortage of them. The woman would almost always be staring back at him with clear invitation shining in her eyes. Ironically, however, the argument had ensued because Parker got dragged into a scrum of ladies on the dance floor while Nicco sipped and watched, his gaze intent.

  “So,” Nicco had asked as they walked to their hotel in the wee hours, sweat drying on their skin, “you want to give it a try?”

  Parker had stopped, put a hand on Nicco’s arm, not sure what the guy meant but too tired and drunk to give a smart answer regardless. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I mean, sexy American boyfriend,” Nicco had grinned and pulled Parker into an embrace. “I can arrange a little group fun, with some members of the fairer sex for company. If you like.” Parker recalled grinning at the sensation of his lover’s erection pressing against him, making his own body respond in kind. His lips had been soft, whispering near Parker’s ear. The Paris night had been warm and full of promise. He’d bitten Parker’s earlobe then released him, stepping back with a confusing, angry look on his face.

  Parker shook his head, remembering the whole bizarre scene. He’d said no, no thanks. Not interested in sharing you. Nicco had remained sullen the rest of the walk back. By the time they hit the hotel door, Parker’s alcohol fueled fury had bubbled over.

  “I mean, I guess you want it though, right? I’m not enough for you? You couldn’t take your eyes off all the pussy in the room. Think I didn’t notice?”

  Nicco had made a growling sound, grabbed Parker and shoved him up against the wall of the hotel room, his huge hand on Parker’s pulsing throat. His palm had moved lower as he spoke. “You are all I want. Ever.” Then he’d pressed a mind-blowing kiss to Parker’s lips. Parker had yanked away, holding Nicco’s still cloudy-looking face in his hands.

  “Don’t lie to me, Nicolas. That is one thing I will not tolerate.”

  Nicco had looked down, then let go of him and walked toward the bathroom. He turned back, pinning Parker with a gaze full of remorse and unhappiness. Parker still leaned against the wall, his body prepared for a nice hard fuck, thanks to Nicco’s flipping of his switches once again.

  “I won’t lie to you, Parker,” he’d said. “But I warned you. I told you I would be no good for you. Maybe you should have listened.” He’d shut the bathroom door behind him leaving Parker to his thoughts.

  So now, staring at Terrance, absorbing his words, he blinked. The other man’s smile widened. “Ah, yes, I see you understand me now. Beware, young Mr. Rollings. Nicolas Garza is never, ever satisfied with just one person for very long. He has no control over himself and never will. Just ask his wife, or me, or any number of people he’s fucked and dropped.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nicco sat staring at the therapist, heart pounding with desperation. The stubborn days since parting ways with Parker after the long vacation had stretched into infuriating weeks and now two lonely months had passed without any communication between them.

  During which Nicco had experienced what anyone would consider a total relapse. The months he’d spent working on his inner demons, finding other things to distract him so he wouldn’t seek out random and meaningless sex faded as if they’d never happened. Both he and the psychologist agreed having the physical outlet of the grueling season did help. So he’d rewarded himself with the resort trip. The one where he’d finally met up with the man he loved.

  Then, after the the amazing discovery at La Luna, they’d spent weeks fucking each other’s brains out here, and on their European trip. A blur of nonstop sex bordering on marathon-level as Parker discovered what he liked and didn’t like, and Nicco processed just how much the kid meant to him.

  Since it was the offseason they weren’t required to show up at the Black Jacks’ training center as often, but Nicco found himself there every day, pushing his body harder and harder as he came to terms with the fact that he had, indeed found love once more. And how much the admission terrified him beyond imagining.

  Almost everything about Parker Rollings charmed, amused, impressed him—and the things that did not, turned him into a raging horndog, harkening back to his much younger days. He’d even had a tough time keeping his hands off his new lover in public. So he’d concocted the long vacation, filled with opportunities for sightseeing, long beach walks, and exotic candlelit dinners for Parker, who’d never before ventured off American soil.

  He had somehow ruined it, leading to the blow-off in the taxi, and the weeks of silence that now had a life of their own. While part of him understood and in a way didn’t blame Parker, he still ached from loss. Although he had certainly brought it on, forcing himself to remain emotionally aloof in order to protect what remained of his heart.

  Damn psychologist had made him own that as well. The past weeks working with Josh the shrink had convinced him one could possibly be too self-aware. Part of him longed for the good old days—the who-gives-a-shit, utterly non-introspective, completely selfish Nicco. The one who could barely spend more than thirty minutes alone.

  “I think you need to acknowledge that you have no intention of ruining anyone, Nicolas,” the man was saying. “Give yourself some credit. You said you loved him. I believe you. You told me you’ve only ever loved one other person, and you know how it feels. Is it fair to Parker to just drop him now using excuses even you don’t believe?”

  Nicco scowled. He hated these fucking sessions. Even though he had increased them to twice a week now and had even stayed in contact with the doc while on vacation because the intensity of his feelings for Parker frightened him so much.

  He leaned forward, his need to shock Josh, to make even him give up on Nicco the bad, the naughty, the never-with-anyone-very-long, taking over. “Do you want to know what I’ve done these last few nights, Josh? Hmm?” Josh, who’d become a lifeline for him, whom he relied on and hated in equal measure, merely raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so after the first night after Parker more or less dumped me in the taxi home from the airport, I pouted and got stinking drunk by myself. Then I waited for him to get over himself and call me. Now, nearly two months after he told me he needed time “to think”, I give up. So for the last week or maybe even two, I don’t remember, I’ve gone out and picked up random women and fucked them, usually in public, in alleys, in back hallways, and once on the hood of my car. Oh,” he held up a finger as if remembering something good. “And then last night, I went to a gay club and spent the whole time in the back rooms. You know.” He raised his own eyebrow at the young man whose facial expression had not changed. “So I’m good. I’m over him. Nicco is back to normal. Parker is safe from my influence.”

  “Do you get tested regularly, Nicolas?” The psychologist’s low, deadly serious voice made him flinch. “Because I’m guessing you don’t always remember protection. It’s a fairly classic symptom of personalities like yours.”

  “I….” Nicco ran a hand down his face, suddenly weary beyond belief. Josh had never been so direct. “Yes, I go every six weeks. And I’m clean of all the usual stuff, including the big one. Thanks for asking. And for
the record, I use condoms.”

  “Okay then. Now let’s talk about Parker.”

  “I don’t want to.” He felt like a pouty little boy not getting his way. He wanted Parker back in his arms so badly it made every inch of his skin burn. He couldn’t sleep, had no appetite, and had indeed been pulling some old-Nicco bullshit with random women and did get into an orgy in the back room of a gay bar. Getting off without gaining a single measure of satisfaction—Nicco’s mojo had returned.

  “You need to. Because he is probably going to want an explanation about this.” Josh turned his laptop around so the screen faced him.

  Nicco frowned as his brain processed the collection of images there into something he tried to understand. He, Nicco, seemed to be a fairly serious-looking clench with a woman, one of the many from these past weeks. Forgettable as they all were, as they always were.

  He sought something. He’d found it once with Leandro. And then at the resort he’d found it again. But his love had rejected him. With good reason since Nicco had spent their entire vacation not-so-subtly forcing him away.

  He knew damn good and well what Parker required from him—his heart. Nicco didn’t think he could give it. “Well, it’s not his business anymore, I guess. He’s the one who wanted ‘space to think.’” Nicco hooked his fingers around the words, rolling his eyes. His heart pounded and his mouth stayed bone dry.

  “You need to talk to him. Take the initiative. Call him. Sitting around waiting for him to call you is making you fall back into bad habits. After all the progress we’ve made, it seems pretty damn counter-productive.” He glared at Nicco, his eyes dark and intense. “What do you want, Nicolas, really? Have you ever once answered that question in your own mind? Because I am pretty sure it is not random hookups.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be supportive of me, young Josh? Not bossy?” Nicco looked away. “I mean I’m no expert in this head-shrinkage thing but…”

  “I’m supposed to be the one you can turn to when you need to talk. But I am allowed to ask questions. What do you want, Nicco?”

  Nicco jumped up, shoving his seat back. “I don’t fucking know, don’t you get it?” He leaned over Josh’s desk. The kid just sat there, implacable, and annoyingly calm.

  “I think you do. If the conversations we had while you were on vacation were any indication.”

  Nicco made an exasperated noise and stomped out. He’d left a lot of sessions like this, he mused, as he made his way down to the locker room. He needed to run, to kick, to bash into people. He was practically crawling out of his skin. Leaning his head against the wooden door of his locker he let himself have it—the longing, the raw, true emotion he’d been fighting for months now.

  “Call him,” Josh’s voice floated through his brain. “Take the initiative.”

  He stared at his phone for a full minute. Then tossed it back into the locker. He pulled on shorts, shirt, socks, and cleats and grabbed a bag of balls from the equipment room. Action, movement, physicality, that was what he required right fucking now.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Parker sat across from his coaches, his pulse racing. He’d called this meeting to warn them he wanted a transfer, for personal reasons. The sight of them made him pause. They represented something he truly didn’t want to leave behind. It made him even more furious with Nicco for putting him in this position. He closed his eyes against the onrush of sensation—the ugly chest-crushing jealousy taking up residence once more.

  It wasn’t just the photos on the blogs. That he could almost understand—Nicco acting out, as usual; Nicco regressing after their few months of blissful calm. Parker requested the break after all. He had actually gone out on a date himself, with the lovely and accommodating Ashley just a few weeks into the “break.” A flush crept up Parker’s neck at the memory of the night.

  “Shh…,” she’d soothed when he broke down after she’d asked for the millionth time why he seemed unhappy. “It will be okay.”

  Parker had clutched at her. Grasping at anything that might help him forget. Before he knew it their lips had met. He’d ripped at her clothes, breathing ragged, words neither of them heard escaping their lips. And then the wonderful, soft depths of a woman’s body welcomed him. They cried out together, climaxing simultaneously at the exact instant Parker acknowledged he hadn’t bothered with a condom.

  The next morning she’d left with a soft kiss and even softer words as she sat next to him, hand to his morning rough face. “I loved you, Parker. But I know I’m not what you want. Go to him. Just get over your damn self and go.”

  Just a couple of days ago he’d discovered the final piece of the puzzle. He’d opened up his web-based email for the first time since returning from the vacation and stared at it, confused. Until he recalled he’d let Nicco use his computer and he’d stayed signed in to his email account.

  Parker closed his eyes a split second, prepared to sign out and leave well enough alone. Nothing good ever came from reading someone else’s email. When he opened them, he reached out and started scrolling through Nicco’s messages.

  Not much in the way of incriminating really. Some communication from agents who wanted to represent him. Black Jack daily updates they all got. The email from La Luna made his face flush.

  Then he stared at what appeared to be a long chain of communication from someone named Josh. Heart pounding, he read them all, none of them overtly sexual, but Nicco obviously had some sort of relationship with the guy between the “when will I see you again’s?” and “thanks for calling, I needed that’s” that had been exchanged even while Nicco had been with him on vacation.

  He signed out of the incriminating email, opened his own and in quick succession told his agent he wanted to make a change, the sooner the better. Then sent messages to his coaches, requesting a meeting as soon as possible.

  He’d made a decision in his typical all-or-nothing way, he supposed. But he wanted to give the coaching staff a heads-up before he made it official. Both men had agreed to meet with him on a Saturday morning, just a few days before the player transfer window closed.

  Both Metin and Rafe had shown up with their kids. Parker stood, hands stuffed into his pockets, nervous beyond belief. He’d had no brothers or sisters but liked little kids. Enjoyed doing the fan day stuff, kicking balls around with them. The time on the beach with Nicco, when the kids had accosted them into a game he would never forget.

  Rafe’s son sat in a cage-like thing with soft walls, messing around with random toys. Metin’s baby daughter slept in a stroller, swaddled in pink. Both men seemed so happy, content with their lives. It made Parker jealous but he gulped it back.

  “So I need to find a new situation,” he began, not even sure he was supposed to be having this conversation outside the hearing of his newly signed agent.

  “Sorry to hear this,” Metin leaned back in his chair, one hand on the sleeping infant.

  “Can I ask why?” Rafe came around the desk to pick up some of the toys his boy had heaved out of the playpen.

  “Personal reasons,” he mumbled, looking down.

  “Funny, we just had this same conversation with Nicco Garza yesterday. Can I assume we get keep one of you?”

  Parker glared at Rafe. “I…I didn’t know he was going to…I mean….”

  “Listen, Parker, you know we support Nicco. And you should know we would support…you as well.”

  “It’s not like that.” Parker looked away, frustrated fury clouding his vision. He stood up, fists clenched. Rafe’s little boy chose the moment to holler, giggle, and heave a mini-sized soccer ball a surprising distance from his play base of operations. Parker looked down at the kid and some of his tension eased.

  He knelt, picked up the ball, and handed it back to him. “Training a goalie there, coach?” he asked, keeping his gaze pinned on the boy who gripped the soft edge of the playpen with one hand while reaching for Parker with the other.

  “Something like that,” Rafe said.
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br />   Metin cleared his throat, drawing Parker’s attention back to the adults in the room. “Talk to him before you make this decision, Parker. I really think you owe it to him, to you both. While I may not understand you, it does not mean I want to break up a perfectly good team over it. Well, at least not any more than it’s been broken up over it.”

  Parker stared at the two men, both tall, fit, former top players in their day but for various reasons unable to take their careers as far as they wanted. The Black Jacks had thrived under their leadership. Parker had learned so much from them both. His pulse raced at the realization of how much he wanted to stay. “You guys have been great. I mean, you know, about Nicco.” His face flushed.

  “Well, trust me, it’s not been easy. But I will tell you after an initial flurry of cancelled season tickets, I’m told sales are up, beating expectations, thanks to Nicco’s willingness to be the media darling, or whipping boy, whichever side you believe.” Metin shrugged then smiled at his daughter who had started making baby noises. “There was a time in my life when I would never have accepted playing with a known homosexual on my team. But I used to be a young, foolish guy. I want him on the Black Jacks. I don’t care how he takes his jollies.” Metin leveled a serious stare at Parker. “I want you on the Black Jacks too though, Rollings. So I suggest you and Nicco get past this … whatever it is you’re going through and come to some sort of resolution.”

  Rafe picked up his boy who’d started to shake the sides of his confined space and whine. “We’ve all seen the hater bullshit. The name-calling, the conservative talk show nonsense. I think we’re past the worst of it, although if you guys…ah….” He gestured to Parker, then frowned. “If you guys decide you are a couple, which I understand is possibly the case, please let us know. We have to make sure the marketing folks don’t try to make hay with it any further. I don’t want any more media attention. And you men deserve your privacy. Thank God the new legal department agrees with me.”