by Liz Crowe
Shit. I gotta get out of this. Now. This vacation is a huge mistake.
He swallowed and stepped past the man, who appeared frozen in place. “Excuse me.” He snagged his bag and ducked into the half bathroom.
“You know, I’ve seen you,” Nicco called through the door. “We share a locker room, for Christ’s sake.”
Parker propped his hands on the marble sink and stared into the mirror at his bloodshot eyes. His body thrummed with erotic energy. He had to put a stop to this. He should never have come here. He can’t be with a man. It did not square with his goal of soccer stardom. And he definitely could not be with Nicco. Not and keep his sanity. “Yeah, well, you’ve done more than just see me if I’m not mistaken. That’s why I’m in here. Thanks.” He croaked out.
He emerged, determined to make the best of the next few hours and then catch a plane home. Nicco sprawled on the large leather couch reading a newspaper. Parker took a minute to study him, willing himself angry, anything to reject what his body wanted him to do.
His gaze traversed the long line of the man’s dark-skinned legs, crossed at the ankle, up to his black shorts, to the bare and fit chest. He ground his teeth and held back, palms itching to plunge into his thick mane of hair, to run his tongue along the strong jaw, down to his tempting, copper-colored nipples.
“Fuck,” he muttered willing his cock soft before taking a step into the room. He got caught in a mass of fabric as the wind blew a puff of warm air into the room, billowing the curtains right into his path. He batted them away and took his eyes off Nicco long enough for the man to get to his feet and stand mere inches from Parker.
He sucked in a breath. “So, let’s walk.” He stepped around the other man, yanked the door open, and stomped out into the hall.
The mantra played through his brain drowning out the sounds of the elevator during the awkward minutes it took for them to descend to the lobby. “I’m not this guy. I’m not this guy. I’m not….”
He followed Nicco out, nodded at the beautiful women at the desk and kept his eyes roaming, anything but stare at the broad shoulders of the man in front of him.
You are this guy, Parker Rollings. You paid more money to attend a week at an expensive gay resort than some families make in three months. You are here to fuck men. Or to be fucked by them. Whatever. Nervous energy shot down his spine.
At that precise moment he could imagine Nicco’s cock, against his ass, pressing inside his body, bringing pain and the most exquisite bite of pleasure. It made his face flame red and his breath catch in his throat.
They emerged onto the beach and shuffled along in silence. Soft, powdery sand felt good to Parker’s aching feet after he slipped off his shoes, leaving them at the hut near the resort bar. He had no idea what to say, how to start, how to end, how to extract himself, or even make a pass at the guy.
Their bizarre history stretched like a canyon between them. The easy conversations they’d had in and around the soccer venue felt very far away. Parker cursed himself and made a vow to only stay a few minutes, then get his ass back onto a plane out of here. They must have walked nearly an hour, well past the boundaries of the La Luna resort, in what had eased, somehow, into a comfortable silence.
He heard a shout. “Nicco! Nicco!” A small, dark skinned boy ran up, a gleam in his eye. “Is it you?” Nicco grinned at the kid.
“Yeah, I believe so.” He shrugged at Parker who couldn’t resist a matching smile.
“Hey, d’you wanna play? You and—hey, you’re Rollings, aren’t you? From the Black Jacks! Hey guys!” The kid ran off, leaving Parker and Nicco standing for a few seconds. Then they found themselves surrounded by a gaggle of boys and girls of all ages. A soccer ball appeared, got kicked into the air, and the race was on.
Parker chuckled. This he understood.
The sun beat down on the near-paradise of sand and sea as the men jumped into the pick-up match, playing full out, giving a few tips, but mostly enjoying the beautiful game they both loved.
Parker feinted, moved past Nicco, passed and his small team scored, causing paroxysms of delight, high fives, and various celebrations. Nicco frowned, called his team in for a quick conference, then raised an eyebrow at Parker and held up a hand to signal resumption of play.
Parker trotted forward, easily maneuvering around the small bodies, letting a few of them take the ball from him on purpose as he made his way to the makeshift goal. “Now!” He heard Nicco call and suddenly the entire opposing team descended on him, circled him, forcing the ball away from his feet by the sheer mass of their numbers. He grinned, sprinted after Nicco who headed straight for the opposite end.
Before Parker reached him, he planted the ball into the small net and turned to accept his own celebrations. Parker watched, sweat dripping from his hair as the man let four or five small kids climb up his arms. Parker’s chest constricted at the sight, scaring him, forcing him to turn away.
After another hour, the kids’ parents gathered them up and the two men wandered back to the La Luna private beach and sat together, sore feet stuck in the surf. Covered in sweat and sand, Parker allowed a happy relaxation to ease into his chest.
He dropped back on one elbow and watched the huge red sun-globe hover over the sea, turning the fluffy clouds an amazing array of colors. He observed Nicco rolling his shoulders and propping his elbows on his knees and wanted more than he wanted to his next breath to reach out and touch those shoulders, back, and more. He shook his head.
“That was fun.” He hated the sound of his own voice.
“Yeah,” Nicco grunted, keeping his gaze trained on the horizon. Frustrated fury surged through Parker’s brain.
“Look, I’m sorry I’ve fucked up your resort weekend by showing up. I don’t want it either so I’m gonna head back and see if the front desk can get me a flight.” He gasped when Nicco turned to him, mocha dark eyes glistening with emotion. Within seconds the man loomed over him, hands on either side of Parker’s face, forcing him to lie back or they’d knock foreheads. Nicco’s warm breath, his intense stare, made Parker shut his eyes, willing the urges coursing through him far, far away. Then, suddenly, he didn’t want to fight it anymore.
The sand scratched his back, the cool water lapped at his feet, and when he opened his eyes ready to accept whatever Nicco offered, the man glared at him then backed away, resuming his seated position, staring at the sea. Parker stayed put, flat on his back, collecting himself. A warm palm touched his thigh.
“I’m glad you’re here. Stay. Por favor.”
Parker closed his eyes again, terror and raw, primal lust raging through his soul. While something else in him achieved a sort of peace then, with Nicco’s light touch to his leg. This would be complicated. As he propped himself back up on his elbows and the men sat in comfortable silence for a while, he knew it would be worth it, and determined to make it so, for both of them.
Chapter Fourteen
Nicco winced as his newly-sore feet hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor. After a long hot shower, he wound a huge towel around his waist. As a small spark of anger caught, burning a little brighter behind his eyes.
Jesus Christ, Garza, you seduce men and women with ease. What is your fucking problem? You want this kid. Take him. He’s ready. It’s a purely physical act. You understand the mechanics. The kid is an obvious bottom. You prefer to top. Perfect. Do your thing.
Nicco’s chest burned and his skin felt raw, flayed at the word floating through his head about Parker...“mine.” At loose ends, unsure if he should amble out of the bathroom naked, with a towel, fully dressed, or what, which pissed him off even more.
He glared into the mirror, dragged fingers through his wet hair and set his shoulders. He’d be damned if this kid, this…unbelievable, handsome, smart, talented, and compelling man would turn him into a nervous teenager.
He jerked the door open and walked out with the large towel still around his waist, determined to get control of this thing. To take what he wan
ted, go back to Spain, and never darken the door of America again. Not if it meant exposure to heartbreak. He’d come out publicly, so he could never play in Europe, but he had plenty of money. He could retire, consult, coach, or sit on a beach for the rest of his life. Of all the things Nicolas Garza was careless about, one of them was never money.
It had been a foolish stunt with the Black Jacks, putting himself out there, a prancing pony for the media to drool over and the public to crush to their collective, open-minded bosom—or vilify as “all that was wrong with sports.” He’d cut himself off at the knees with it for certain. He was stuck in America now, of all places, the country that had at least at first taken on his open homosexuality with a media-frenzied fervor.
All the foolish fantasies he’d allowed himself years ago with Leandro, the one man he loved more than life, came rushing back. Scenes of domestic bliss, of shared goals, happiness, and more flashed through his head as he took in the sight of Parker. The tall man stood in front of a gigantic television tuned to a premiership game, shirt in his hand, his perfectly-formed back and broad shoulders an insurmountable temptation.
Nicco took a breath and headed for the mini bar. Alcohol. That would help.
Parker whooped when someone scored. “Hey, did you ever play with….”
“Yeah, probably. All of ’em at one point or another.” Nicco dropped into a chair, beer in hand, letting resentment burn bright. “I’m old, remember?” Parker’s eager face turned back to the screen, as he bent one leg then the other stretching out his quads and hamstrings, his lithe body moving under Nicco’s gaze.
They both watched the match unfold, go into stoppage time then get decided on penalty kicks. By the time it ended they sat side by side on the couch, an easy familiarity between them. Without a word Parker jumped up and disappeared into the bathroom. Shower noises drowned out the final commentary from the broadcast.
Nicco flipped the television to a music channel. When Parker re-emerged dressed in a towel and nothing else, the latest R&B song drifted through the large room. Nicco walked up to the object of his desire, deciding to be as straightforward as he could.
“Look, Parker, I’m, um, not gonna kid you. I want…ah….” The expression on Parker’s face stopped him. Deer in the headlights, combined with a tinge of anger and abject terror sent red flags flying all across Nicco’s brain. “Never mind.”
He sat back down and drained the rest of the beer. A complex array of emotions played across the young man’s face. Nicco watched, amused, and then resigned. “It’s okay. I understand. I’d try to escape me too. I come with my own media circus now. Why would you want to subject yourself to it?”
He stood and made his way to the bar again, needing to drown, to shut out, to close off any and everything. “You should go, young Parker. You aren’t safe here. Not with me.” He kept his back to the man, throat hot and tight with unsaid words.
Before he could pick up his drink, strong arms encircled him. A firm chest pressed against his back. Lips found his neck, trailed down to his shoulder. The unmistakable sensation of fully aroused male pressed close, made him groan and raise his arms, reach behind him, and grip Parker’s thick hair in his fingers. “You don’t want to do this,” he whispered still facing away from the man he suspected he already loved.
The hands roamed across his body, down, yanked the towel away in one quick motion, leaving him bare and exposed and pulsing—heart, soul, and body.
Parker heard nothing but Nicco’s breathing, felt nothing but Nicco’s soft, silky skin. He kissed the deep brown flesh, closed his eyes and let his hand move, taking him places he never thought he’d go. But he had to, now. He required the man’s lips on his like he required oxygen to breathe.
Nicco turned slowly, held out his arms. Parker went into them, as lips, tongues and teeth clashed with urgency. Nicco’s hands roamed all over him. Parker heard himself moaning, sighing Nicco’s name. His brain released every ounce of tension and anxiety he’d been harboring about this very moment, the moment Parker became true to himself at last. His eyes burned but Nicco kept kissing him, muttering something around his lips as he reached down to tug Parker’s towel off.
He grunted when Nicco gripped him. He trembled, confusion taking hold, making him dizzy. The hand kept up its steady rhythm, lips stayed on his, tongues met and retreated. The room dimmed around Parker’s vision.
“Holy shit.” His whole body pulsed with energy he couldn't contain as he groaned and shook, mortified at his teenager-ish knee jerk orgasm. “God.” He broke away, stepped back, his ears buzzing with shame and a low hum of still unfulfilled need. “I’m, um, sorry.” He took another step away from the man who’d compelled him to act this way. Now he really needed to leave but wanted to stay, to wrap himself in the blanket that was Nicco and never emerge.
Nicco held out a hand, his gaze soft, his full lips pursed with concern. “It’s okay,” he soothed, putting a hand to Parker’s boiling hot face. Lips touched his, gentler this time, but firm with purpose.
Parker sighed and wrapped his arms around the other man, reveling in the hard planes, the angles, and rough skin. Nicco maneuvered him backward towards the couch. They stayed standing, hands unable to settle as Parker allowed himself to touch Nicco all over.
The amazing velvet of Nicco’s shaft filled Parker’s hand as he palmed it. His own cock surged back to life, springing up between them.
“Let go a minute. Trust me. I need to feel you against me,” Nicco murmured into his mouth. Parker wound his shaking fingers in the silky depths of Nicco’s hair, groaning with satisfaction as their bodies melded, heat meeting heat. Nicco broke away then, put his hands on either side of Parker’s face. Parker tried his best to calm his breathing but he couldn’t, didn’t want to.
“Fuck me. Nicco. Please…I…want you to.” Nicco blinked, took a long breath, then pressed kisses to his nose, both cheeks, his neck, making him moan and fist his hands in the long, silky hair again. “Please. God, Nicco.”
“No, Parker. I can’t. I won’t. I’m no good for you….” Their lips met again and they dropped to the couch together even as Nicco protested. Parker couldn’t tell where he ended and Nicco began. The realization made a bright beam of happiness pierce his brain.
“Stop!” Nicco pulled away then, disentangled himself and sat, his shoulders heaving. Parker leapt to his feet, stood in front of the man who’d enticed him on so many levels. Putting a hand to his chin he tilted the dark, handsome face up. Their mutual nakedness felt completely natural. Parker’s usual reticence about nudity vanished in the flash of Nicco’s dark, sexy stare.
“I won’t stop. I want this. So do you. I will stop pretending though. If you will.” He stepped closer, his throbbing sex inches from Nicco’s lips. “If you won’t fuck me then….” he gasped as the other man rose, gripped his face, and stared into his soul.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Parker. But I am going to make love to you. Over and over and over again.” Parker dropped his hands to his sides, let Nicco kiss him, allowed himself to accept his touch everywhere, then nearly make him pass out with the sensation of lips, tongue, and throat.
Their combined breathing rasped, loud, overpowering the music pounding from the speakers. After nearly bringing on another mind-blowing orgasm and making Parker want to cry with satisfaction, he stood, wiping his lips. “Now. To the bed.” He took Parker’s hand and led him into the other room. The curtains billowed around them, lending a surreal air to the lusty energy between them.
Nicco sat, tugging Parker down next to him, palmed his cheek, and kissed him long and deep, making every nerve in Parker’s body sing out. He reached for Nicco’s cock, needing something to touch, another connection of some sort. Nicco shifted his hips to give him more access. Their lips parted.
“That’s it,” he whispered into Parker’s skin. “Now lie back, let me show you….” He eased him down onto the bed, kissing and licking every inch of skin.
Parker’s body ached, his
head pounded, and an emptiness he’d never sensed before made itself known, beating into his brain, making him feel hollowed out. He pulled Nicco’s face up from its current mission lapping at his nipples. “Please. Show me.”
Nicco’s heart fluttered, his body pulsed with something he refused to name as he stood and retrieved a tube of lubrication and some condoms from his suitcase. A virgin—not something he’d encountered in a while. But this delicious man—his Parker—lay there, so ready and amazing all spread out on the bed. His bed. His Parker.
Nicco shivered, shook his head, and smiled, lying alongside the other man, running his hand down Parker’s beautiful face, neck, shoulders. He leaned in for yet another mind-boggling kiss, groaning at the touch of the other man’s hand on his flesh.
Go slow. Take it easy. Enjoy. It might be the only chance you get.
He smiled and cupped Parker’s heavy, contracted sac, ran a finger beneath it, caressing the smooth skin between balls and ass, making the other man buck his hips and whimpers escape his lips.
Unable to resist, he lapped at the fluid pearling the end of Parker’s long cock as he worked his way lower. He sensed Parker’s body pulse, then give, as he pressed his generously lubed fingertip in, a little at a time.
“Yes... Let go. It’s okay. Relax…my love,” he whispered, keeping his lips near Parker’s, his own body near explosion. Dear God but he was tight, glorious, and amazing.
Parker spread his legs, propped his feet on the bed, and offered his most tender and sensitive body parts to Nicco, making him gasp, taking deep breaths of aroused man. His own cock twitched and throbbed. Parker’s hips bucked harder. He released a low, deep groan, filling Nicco’s head with noise, lust, and a kernel of something scary.
“Parker,” he whispered. “My love, I think you’re ready.” He pressed hard, felt him release, give way. He groaned. “Jesu, Parker. Querido.”
“If you don’t fuck me now I’m really gonna be pissed.” The breathy voice made him grin, as he eased his fingers out, as the beautiful man lying on the bed hissed, and blew out a breath.
