The Scientist and the Supermodel

by Tara Lain

  “No…yeah. I don’t know. I just think I have to sleep now…have to be alone.”

  Roan sighed. It wasn’t like this was the first time some guy had accepted a blowjob and then pushed him away. It was his damn fucking face. Guys got mesmerized and just forgot they were straight—until they came harder than they ever had and then freaked. He had hoped this guy was different. Shit. “Yeah, I can see I am too heavy. Don’t panic, straight boy; I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

  For an instant, the blond looked remorseful, or so it seemed to Roan. But then he kind of shook himself. “Yeah, it’s best if you go.”

  Roan stood and walked to the door. It felt like a long fucking way. He glanced back and saw Jake trying to cover his naked cock, which was lying in sated satisfaction on his thigh. Asshole.

  Roan smiled tiredly. “Good luck with your science, Doc. And don’t worry about Tom. He got his money’s worth.”

  And then he left.

  Chapter Three

  “Congratulations on your research, Dr. Martin. Excellent, excellent. Imagine isolating the exact genes that can determine the appropriate cancer treatment. Such great potential.”

  Jake tried to smile. “Thank you, Dr. Gelkan. Working with Dr. Silvay makes it easy to do great research.”

  “I’m sure, my boy, I’m sure.”

  Jake extricated himself from a circle of well-wishers and walked over to the side table to grab a bottle of water. He wasn’t thirsty, but he wanted a second’s break. Longest damned morning of his life. The presentation, the one that had his name on it along with Em’s, was a huge success, and all he could do was fight back thoughts of that green-eyed creature and the most intense orgasm he’d had in—maybe ever. Shit, he so didn’t want to think about that. He tossed the water bottle and headed toward Em, who was gathering her materials while talking with her own group of admirers. How could such a great day be so crappy?

  He got up to the platform and edged Em aside so he could take over the packing of the computer while she continued her conversation. She gave him a grateful smile and moved off. There she was—scientist, boss, and the object of his longtime obsession. He’d told her once she reminded him of Diane Lane, and it was an apt description, except for the auburn hair. Classy and sexy with a calm, understated beauty. She also happened to be smart as hell. Maybe she really had spoiled him for other women. Maybe that was why he couldn’t get it up for anyone appropriate and could only get turned on by a guy. Okay, enough.

  Em broke in on his unwelcome reverie and gave him a one-armed hug. “Thank you, Jake.”

  “For what? You did all the heavy lifting this morning.”

  “Yes, emphasize ‘this morning.’” She gestured around the still-crowded auditorium. “This whole thing would never have happened if you hadn’t decided to turn our research into a presentation that a human could understand.”

  Jake patted her head, easy from his six-two to her five-six. “Yep, she can unravel the most complex gene sequence, but PowerPoint baffles her.”

  “That, my dear, is totally…true. But it’s way more than your laptop skills I’m talking about, Jake. You took a bunch of raw data and turned it into the salvation of the human race. I was blushing for most of the presentation.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, but I’ll bet it gets us some more grant money.”

  “You tricky devil. I’ll bet it does.” She looked at him more closely. “Hey, are you okay? You look beat.”

  He shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  “Jesus, I work you way too hard!”

  That made him laugh. “Yeah, I know, you always tell me that right before you give me another huge project.”

  She smacked her own arm. “Bad boss. Bad boss.” Then she gave him a tender smile. “Seriously, sweetheart, there’s nothing going on here for a while except that luncheon. Now that event will be an opportunity for people to tell you how brilliant you are and to congratulate me on being smart enough to hire you, but aside from that, it’ll all be stuff you’ve heard. Why don’t you take off and have a nap or take a walk or eat a meal. Hell, have sex. Do something my outrageous schedule never gives you time for.”

  Jake cringed at her random choice of activities, but he had to admit he didn’t feel like smiling and glad-handing for several hours. “Thanks, I wouldn’t mind a break. But if you need me, I’ve got my cell handy, and I’ll be there for the evening sessions.”

  “I count on it, sweetheart.” She gave him a light swat on the behind, which he enjoyed way too much. “Now git.”

  Fielding a few handshakes, he exited the auditorium with the computer and handout materials and hurried to his room to stash the equipment. The maid hadn’t been to the room yet, and Jake was confronted with the tangled, rumpled evidence of his lack of sleep, plus, maybe just his imagination, the lingering smell of sex. God, what had last night been about? Barely able to get it up for the girl and then coming like Mt. Vesuvius for the man—the boy, that beautiful boy. He knew he was going to have to think about it soon, but he just wasn’t ready yet.

  Sunshine, air, maybe some water, that was what he needed. Hell, this was LA. Even in January, they had all of that to spare. He changed to his jeans and a T-shirt, switched the wire rims for some sunglasses, grabbed his board shorts in case the pool was enticing, and headed down to the sports deck.

  Once outside, he was surprised to discover it was a bit cooler than the sunshine advertised. Even a New Yorker like him could get a goose bump out here. Maybe no swimming. A few stalwarts were sunning by the pool, and he noticed a good-size crowd gathered over at the far end of the pool deck that looked down on city traffic below. Curious, he wandered over toward the group.

  As he got closer, he noticed large light poles, wires running across the concrete and grass, and a lot of sloppy but official-looking people walking around with clipboards and iPhones. Fun. Maybe a movie was shooting? He insinuated himself through the onlookers until he could catch a glimpse of the action on a patch of grass under a bunch of palm trees at the end of the pool. A couple of women, very tall and very thin, were being made up by much shorter, fatter people. The women—models? actresses?—were wearing what looked like pretty skimpy bathing suits but at the moment were clutching towels around their shoulders against the chill. Beside them, a group of people huddled in a circle. They seemed in intense conference about something, and Jake wondered what the excitement was about.

  After a couple minutes, when it seemed nothing was really going to happen, Jake started to leave, but as if on cue, the cluster of people in the center parted like the Red Sea, and Jake’s heart tripped. Walking out of the group and heading for the diving board, dressed only in a pair of slim board shorts, was Roan.

  OMG.

  Roan walked out to the end of the board looking very self-contained and unaware of the gawkers standing around. Jake realized gawkers must be the definition of Roan’s life. The makeup people had made little attempt to tan him, even though it was obviously a summer swimwear photograph. That alabaster skin gleamed in the sunlight in almost shocking contrast against the thick black hair that blew around his face in the LA breeze. The sun brought out the red highlights like fire in a midnight sky.

  Jake slipped behind another spectator so the model wouldn’t see him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. This was bad for him, like an alcoholic saying he’d only take one more drink, but looking away from Roan was just beyond human strength. Jake noticed that the crowd had become very hushed, as if watching something profound and sacred, and maybe that kind of beauty was just that special.

  The model stood shading his eyes while the two thin women took positions on the pool deck. Though they both still clutched towels, trying to keep warm, Roan looked as though the cool wind couldn’t touch him. Maybe it wouldn’t dare.

  A girl behind him whispered to a friend, “Isn’t he amazing? I can’t believe I’m actually seeing him in real life.”

  “Yeah,” replied a Valley-girlish voice. “He’s the screensaver on
my laptop. I just stare and stare. They say he’s gay, but I could care less.”

  “I’ve heard that too, but I know he was dating that actress. Y’ know, Alexandra something, the one that won the Golden Globe for that great indie film. They were real serious, I think.”

  “But who cares, y’know? He’s the most beautiful man on earth.”

  Jake’s ears had been pricking. Actress? Screensaver? The guy was obviously not some wannabe. Jake thought he’d look him up on Wikipedia when he got back to the room. Most beautiful man in the world? He could get behind that, no questions asked.

  At that moment, the photographer must have given some signal, because the two female models finally relinquished their towels and arched their long skinny bodies into awkwardly beautiful poses. But was anyone looking at them except the camera? The young god on the diving board began to move, and Jake thought again of a wildcat in the sunlight. He stretched and turned, proving that, despite appearances, the chiseled body was not actually made of marble. With one turn, Jake noticed a tattoo on his shoulder. It was words of some kind, but Jake couldn’t make them out at this distance. The model’s face pouted and glared and flirted, giving the photographer a thousand different attitudes to choose from.

  Suddenly Roan did a half turn and arched his back into an impossible C shape, and just as Jake gasped, he heard others echoing it. All eyes were riveted to the huge, perfectly outlined bulge of his cock showing clearly through the front of his shorts.

  “Oh yeah.” Jake heard the words breathed behind him. “There’s the money shot.”

  Roan did it again, another shot that gave a clear view of the treasure he kept hidden in his pants.

  Jake couldn’t resist. He turned to the girls behind him. “Why is he doing that? Doesn’t it ruin the picture?”

  One girl giggled. “Are you kidding? He’s, like, famous for that huge cock. Some photographers love to slip in a shot that shows it off just so the magazine readers will, like, drool.”

  “Jesus.” He turned back only to realize that the people he’d been hiding behind had moved away, and he was clearly visible. He looked frantically for another hiding place, but too late. When he glanced back at the diving board, the clear green eyes were staring straight at him.

  Roan gave no sign of recognition. He continued to pose for several seconds, and then suddenly he simply dropped backward into a perfect arching backbend, hands and feet on the board, lithe body ripped and straining, and the bulge of that huge cock sticking straight up toward the heavens.

  Jake had to give a little smile. The message was clear. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Look what you missed, straight boy.

  Yeah, that guy was something.

  Roan pulled himself out of the backbend gracefully. Apparently, the session was over, and he stalked off the diving board to a smattering of applause from the crowd. He flashed a smile briefly but never glanced at Jake.

  Jake realized he was trembling, shaking all over, and to make it worse, his dick was hard as steel. Thank God his jeans were fairly tight, so they kept him under control, but he still pulled his T-shirt down, trying to hide it. He looked around and saw the Valley girl from behind him grinning at him knowingly. “That’s okay, sweetie.” She giggled. “I know just how you feel.”

  Embarrassed, he couldn’t even give a witty reply. He just rushed toward the nearest entrance to the hotel, which proved to be the men’s locker room. Perfect, a hiding place. Inside, a few men were wandering toward the steam room wrapped in towels, so he headed for the quiet back lockers. With no one around, he collapsed onto the nearest bench, ripped off his sunglasses, and dropped his head into his hands.

  Shit, why was he reacting this way? It wasn’t like he was some closet queen who had been fighting his attraction to men for years. He never noticed guys, not even Tom. He’d loved him as a friend and hadn’t been turned off by his oral sex, but he hadn’t lusted after him. He never thought of him that way. Why the fuck did Roan turn him on?

  He stood up and paced a little. God, he wanted to deny it, but he was still half-hard in his jeans. Just thinking about the model made his palms sweat. But he didn’t have to explain it. Tomorrow he could go home and forget the whole fucking episode.

  Fucking…? Wow. What if the guy had wanted to be fucked last night? Would Jake have done it? Was he that far gone over the beautiful man? He shook his head, trying to dislodge the image—the clear, full-color image of his cock buried deep in Roan’s ass. Shit, this was so not helping his erection.

  A soft sound made him look up.

  His beauty was wearing only a towel; the black hair clung to his forehead and neck, wet from the shower. Clear green eyes stared at Jake with some intense but indescribable emotion. Jake knew for certain he’d never seen anything so beautiful. A fully clothed guy—really big—stood behind Roan. The model looked over his shoulder. “It’s okay, Jimmy. He’s a friend. Give us a minute, okay?” The big man disappeared around the lockers.

  A friend? Oh shit, yeah.

  Maybe a stop-action camera could have shown who moved first, but Jake couldn’t describe how he was one moment standing by the lockers and the next locked in Roan’s arms, his mouth crushed against those full, soft lips. He’d never kissed a man before, but this wasn’t “a man,” it was Roan, and Jake couldn’t suck his tongue far enough into his throat.

  The model moaned and whimpered as Jake’s arms pulled him tighter. It was like the boy softened in his arms, the curved lips opening to receive him. And Jake somehow understood that when Roan said he was a bottom, he meant it. Despite the audacious beauty and aura of confidence, the man was deeply submissive. The very idea raged straight to Jake’s cock like he’d been struck by lightning.

  His hands slipped down the bare alabaster back and dislodged the towel. Then he pulled back and looked for the first time at the erection poking him right in the crotch. His eyes widened. “Holy shit.” Those girls had said big—they simply had no idea. The cock was as beautiful as the man it belonged to but was truly out of proportion to Roan’s lean, hard-bodied frame. It was the penis of a giant—a hero—and Jake was amazed to feel his mouth actually water.

  Roan’s eyes were closed as if quietly waiting for some kind of verdict from Jake. He’d said that his cock had scared the girls in his high school. Maybe he was less assured about it than he seemed in his proud poses? “Roan,” Jake murmured. “You’re so beautiful. Everywhere.”

  As if to prove it, Jake slipped down to his knees, putting that enormous penis at mouth level. Though this was something he’d hardly ever thought of doing, it seemed natural to reach out with his tongue and lick the great plum head of the cock. Salty, a little bitter, a lot sweet. And with a deep sigh, he surrendered and wrapped his lips around the shining head and sucked.

  A soft wail came from Roan. He thrust one time deeply with his cock, forcing it into Jake’s throat, then again, and then, shockingly, he pulled out, away, wrenching his cock from Jake’s mouth.

  “Stop, Jake. Don’t. Stop.” He reached down and pulled Jake to his feet.

  Confused, Jake shook his head. “No, I want to. Let me.”

  “No.”

  Jake collapsed onto the bench, and Roan reached for the towel and wrapped it again around his waist, although it stuck almost straight out in front over his erection. He sat next to Jake and put one of those long-fingered hands on Jake’s arm.

  “Jake, there’s nothing I want more than my cock in your mouth”—he gave a little smile—“except maybe your cock in my ass.” Jake started to speak, and Roan stopped him. “No, wait, let me finish. I don’t know for sure what you tell yourself when you look at me, but I’ve got an idea. Beautiful green eyes, just like a girl’s. Lips like Angelina.” Jake looked a little sheepish, and Roan stood and went to a locker and keyed in a code.

  “It’s okay; I’ve heard it all before.” He turned and pulled off the towel. “Jake, I may be pretty, but I’m not a girl.” Jake grinned, since the great cock was making a pretty seri
ous point out of the statement, but Roan didn’t smile. “Yeah, I’d love to walk over there and shove this big thing into your mouth, but after about five sucks, I’d come so hard I’d probably collapse, that’s how bad I want you. And the moment you felt my cum in your throat, you’d freak and run from this locker room like there were hounds chasing you. Gay hounds.”

  Roan pulled on his jeans commando, having to push the still-semierect cock into the denim. “The point is, I’m a man, Jake, and if we’re ever going to be together even for one night, I’ve got to know that you see me as a man…and that a man is what you want. I need to know you want me, not some androgynous dream.”

  Roan went quiet, pulling on his T-shirt and then leaning against the locker, waiting. Jake looked up at him, then stared down at his own hands. “I don’t know what to say, Roan. I admit, I do think some of your qualities are feminine, but many men—Tom, for example—are much more effeminate that you. And I’ve never really been attracted to a man before, no matter how girly. I’ve never kissed a man before or wanted to. As for sucking cock, it’s never crossed my mind until just now. Would I have run when the reality of what I was doing hit the back of my throat? Maybe. I don’t know. I could name dozens of things I like about you, but I don’t really know why I’m attracted to you.” He looked up at that intense, gorgeous face again. “Do you know why you’re attracted to me?”

  “I’m gay, and you’re beautiful.”

  “Is it as simple as that?”

  Roan pushed away from the locker. “Not even close.”

  Jake stared down again and had to whisper because his throat was so tight. “Roan, I have to go to meetings tonight, and I leave tomorrow morning. I won’t see you…”

  He felt Roan sit beside him on the bench. Long fingers turned his chin up to stare into the green eyes. “Hey, Doc, on your name badge, where did I read that you’re from?”

  “Long Island.”

  “I’m a model. What the world grandiosely calls a supermodel.”