Short Stack

by Lily Morton

  I lift my fingers and trace them over the scar in his eyebrow, and he takes that as my acquiescence and pulls me close, taking my lips with a deep groan. I kiss him back, tangling our tongues together, and somehow the residual anger and familiar desire mesh together and explode. I press into him, moaning under my breath, and he fights to get closer, unbuttoning my coat so impatiently that buttons pop off and ping onto the lift floor. He shoves his hands under my coat, and then under the Henley I’m wearing. He spreads his fingers and caresses my abs before lowering and starting to work my belt open.

  “Wait,” I gasp out through a thick throat. “Asa, fuck. We’re in a bloody lift. Let’s get to the room and… fuck.”

  I groan out the last as he tears open my jeans and reaches into my briefs, pulling out my cock and fisting it greedily. Then he lowers himself to his knees and looks up. “Press the emergency stop,” he says, his voice deep.

  “What?” I say frantically. “Shit, Asa, I don’t think…” I moan as he leans forward and swallows my cock down. The sensitive head bumps the back of his throat, and I twist blindly, pressing buttons until the alarm sounds and the lift judders to a stop.

  Asa pulls back, taking my cock in his hand again and tapping the head against his tongue. He smiles lasciviously and pulls back slightly. “No cameras,” he says happily, and then bends back to his task.

  He roots in against the base of my cock, taking deep breaths. “Fuck, I love your smell. When you go back home, I want you to leave me these briefs. I want to keep them so I can smell you.”

  “Dirty bastard,” I say admiringly, and then pull him against me. He opens his mouth obediently and moans under his breath as I slide my cock between his lips. He starts to suck hard, staring at me intently, and I obey his silent instruction. We have to be quick. I lean back against the lift wall and then still as movement catches my eyes. I look up and see our reflection in the mirrored wall.

  “Fuck,” I breathe out. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  I’m leaning back, a study in debauchery. My clothes are open and disarranged, my Henley pushed up and my jeans sagging around my hips. A flush rides high on my cheeks. My mouth is slack and wet, and my eyes are dark. Asa kneels at my feet, and I choke on my spit as I see him open his jeans and withdraw his cock before starting to masturbate with his free hand.

  The image and the heated wet suction finish me off, and I cry out and shoot into his mouth. I lean back and shudder as he swallows greedily and then stiffens against me, digging his head into my thigh and groaning as he jets come into his cupped palm.

  For a second, there’s silence apart from our hoarse panting, and then the intercom sounds. “Sir, you have stopped.”

  Asa reaches out and presses the button with his come-free hand. “Yes, I’ve finished,” he says calmly, and I snort out giggles as he leans against me, hugging me tightly.

  Asa

  A few hours later, I stir in the wreck of our bed. Jude is fast asleep, lying on his front, his head buried under his pillow like usual. The sheet is pulled low on his back, showing the taut globes of his arse, and his long body covered in golden-brown skin seems to glow against the white sheets.

  I lie on my side staring at the sliver of his face I can see, his eyes tightly closed and his mouth curved in a small smile. He’s so fucking gorgeous. I don’t mention it a lot because he hates people to say it, as if in some way his looks make him less.

  I gently push away the black curls that have fallen into his face. His hair has rioted in the year away from modelling, and I love the fact that the curls are back. They’re silk-soft on my fingers, and I can smell the scent of almonds that I now know is from his shampoo after a year of sharing a bathroom with him.

  So many things I know now about this fascinating man. I know that he’s chronically messy, disorganised, and dreamy. He can make me laugh harder than anyone I’ve ever met, and he’s deeply kind, and I love him more for all of that than I do his perfect body and face. I love the life I have with him, the laughter he brings to my home, and the warm sense of deep familiarity that I feel with him as if we are lovers of long-standing.

  I swallow hard because I can’t believe I’d managed to hurt him inadvertently. That I’d been careless and hurt one of the two people I love most in my life. I felt sick to my stomach when I saw the look of pain on his face, along with the knowledge that I’d put it there. Even now, my stomach feels uneasy.

  I sigh and shift onto my back, lying and looking at the ceiling and feeling the warmth of his body against mine. I never want him to think that he doesn’t matter, that I’m attracted to someone else. The very idea is fucking laughable, but I’d seen a trace of that in his face, and it had stunned me. I’m ashamed to admit that a tiny part of me had also liked it. My cheeks flush at the thought because that’s low. Still, I’d felt it. I’d seen the jealousy in his face when he’d said Hayden’s name, and a small piece of me had rejoiced because the simple truth is that he could do far better than me.

  He’s utterly beautiful. There are many reasons why Calvin Klein employed him – the sleepy bedroom eyes, the dark curls falling around a sculpted, narrow face with high cheekbones and full, pouting lips. The long, lean body and golden skin helped too. They probably didn’t see the glint in his eyes and the piss-taking cast to those lips, but that’s what has always attracted me madly, and I know other men see it. I’m not a jealous man by nature, but my gut has tightened too many times lately when I see men cast eyes over him. I want the world to know he’s mine, but at the end of the day, I’m very aware that I fall short of what many people would see as his ideal partner.

  I’m sixteen years older than him, with fifty nearing on my horizon. I can’t be footloose and free like some of the men he knows. They can hop on a plane to eat dinner in Rome on a second’s notice. I, however, would have to check Billy’s and my schedules and then make a tentative arrangement for a couple of months down the line. Even then I’d probably end up cancelling, and I’d end up treating him once again to fish and chips eaten with the massive amount of people that seem to populate my house. I can’t fuck him whenever or wherever the mood takes us. I have to make sure the door’s locked and Billy’s nowhere in earshot.

  I sigh again because it’s not exactly the life I imagined a famous model living. Don’t get me wrong, he’s happy. He practically glows these days, and I know he loves Billy and me. But still, the doubt is always there that this won’t keep him. That he’ll grow bored and leave. I hate it, but it’s a fact, and it’s that which is making me secretly pleased to see jealousy on his face. I shamefully like that he’s worried I could leave him because fuck knows it’s nice to know I’m not alone in the feeling.

  He couldn’t be more wrong to worry, though. Hayden isn’t interested in me anymore, and I’m definitely not interested in him. We’re just friends. Admittedly, we hadn’t been once. Once, we’d been more, but there had never been enough there to keep my interest when the fucking stopped. He never captivated me like Jude, never made me laugh hard and feel life fizzing through my veins. Hayden had accepted our parting with little more than a smile and a nod of acknowledgement, and we’d somehow become distant friends. I’d been pleased to see him when he’d joined the show, but that was solely because of the familiarity I feel with him.

  I exhale slowly and ponder what had happened today. If what Jude says is true, and I know that he doesn’t lie, then Hayden lied. He’d looked me in the eyes and flat-out lied, and the question is why. I think uneasily of the time I’ve been spending with him lately, the late nights talking, the meals out together and the way we gravitate towards each other in a group.

  I’d thought nothing of it because Hayden’s a friend. That, and my whole being is intensely and eternally tied up with the mercurial and funny man in my bed. But, as I look back on the last few weeks, I remember the casual touches Hayden’s been giving me lately, and the way he put his hand on my lower back the other night. I’d moved away instantly, but Jude might have another opinion o
n it.

  Then I consider what I’d feel if Jude began spending time with his ex, Simon. How would I feel knowing they were eating together and talking, night after night? The wave of nausea and rage is enough to make me realise I’ve been very stupid.

  “That’s a heavy sigh.”

  I jerk at the sleepy, hoarse voice and turn to see him staring at me intently. “I’m sorry,” I say instantly. “You know you’re everything to me, don’t you?”

  He stretches indolently in the rumpled sheets, his whole body flexing and moving sensually. “If I didn’t, the three times you’ve fucked me would have enlightened me.”

  “Made love,” I correct automatically, and he smirks. I shake my head. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I’ll say something to Hayden.”

  “Misunderstanding,” he says thoughtfully.

  I shoot him a wry look. “Yes, misunderstanding. Hayden would never do anything that malicious, babe. He likes that I’m in love.”

  “Really?” His scepticism is plain.

  I nod and then sigh again. “Shit.” I rub my eyes. “He’s just a friend, Jude. Once…” I pause. I should tell him that we were lovers. He will go fucking ape shit if I don’t let him know. Before I can think of a way to explain, my phone buzzes.

  I reach down and grab it from the pocket of my jeans. Swiping my finger across the screen, I read the text and then take a slow, deep breath.

  “Who is it?” Jude asks, shifting across the mattress and wrapping himself around me like a big, warm cat. He nuzzles into my hip bone, and I gasp as my cock instantly stiffens. “Who is it?” he asks again, rubbing his stubble against my thigh.

  “Ungh,” I groan, and then shake my head to clear it. “It’s Hayden. He wants to know if we fancy meeting up for a drink later on.”

  “Hmm,” he murmurs, shifting around so his curls brush my sensitive inner thighs. “You, me, and Hayden. Not my idea of a cosy threesome.”

  I jerk. “No threesomes for you,” I growl.

  He chuckles, the noise rumbling through my lower body like an echo chamber. “Will the rest of the crew be there? We should go.”

  He reaches out, running his pink tongue along the length of my cock, and he blows cool air after it. I shudder and fall back against the sheets, my legs open so he can lie between them. “Not yet,” I groan and then fist his curls as he takes me down his throat in one smooth motion.

  “Fuck,” I grunt, and everything I meant to say is gone, swept away in a sea of red darkness and sighs.

  Jude

  A couple of hours later, I look around the crowded pub and smile drunkenly. I feel sated and warm all the way through, and also pleasantly pissed. This is a bar we frequent, and currently, we’re all seated at our favourite table, which is close to the huge fire and more importantly to the bar. I’ve lost track of the number of rounds we’ve had so far, and it’s probably a good job because Asa and I haven’t managed to eat yet. I’ve had a couple of packets of crisps and obviously some protein earlier.

  I smile lasciviously and go to lean back against the warm sturdiness of Asa’s arm which has been draped over the back of my chair like usual. For a big Hollywood star, he’s amazingly unconcerned about what people might think. His only concern is that we’re happy, and I’m never happier than when I’m near him, feeling warmth and love and home. However, my back meets the hard wood of the chair, as, at the moment, his arm isn’t there.

  I smile at Jim, who I’ve been talking to for the last half hour, only to frown as I register the extreme disapproval written all over his face. Following his gaze, I feel a cold trickle move down my spine. Asa is sitting in a chair next to Hayden, and they’re currently having a very intense conversation, their heads close together and all their attention on each other.

  I stare for what feels like forever. My brain is telling me to look away, to trust Asa and not display this strange jealousy that seizes me around Hayden. My heart says fuck that because it knows that Hayden wants Asa. Asa might not have noticed, but I recognise the signs — the touch of his fingers on the back of Asa’s hand, the intent way he stares into his eyes, and the rapt, concentrated look on his face while he listens to him. I know the signs because I wrote the book on what a man in love with Asa looks like. The cold trickle threatens to become a flood, and I shake my head, trying to clear the muzziness from the drink.

  I glance back at Jim and go still when I discover he’s looking at me. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he says.

  I’m struck dumb for a second. It feels wrong to talk about Asa like this, to discuss him when I’m his lover, and Jim works for him. However, the drink has slackened my mouth, so I say, “That’s why you were glad I was coming, isn’t it?”

  He runs his hands through his hair agitatedly. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Jude, because Asa would never cheat on you, ever. He’s completely in love with you and never stops talking about you.”

  “But Hayden’s here, and he’d have him in a heartbeat,” I say steadily.

  He sighs and slumps slightly. “Yeah, that’s it. Asa doesn’t see it because he’s such a straightforward man, but Hayden isn’t, and he’s after your bloke.” He hesitates. “I feel disloyal to Asa, but I thought it over a lot, and I came to the conclusion that you should know. I wouldn’t be happy if that was my bloke and Hayden was sniffing around, and make no mistake, Hayden’s used to getting his own way.”

  I turn my gaze back to Asa and Hayden. Hayden throws his head back and laughs and grabs Asa’s arm familiarly. It’s a simple gesture and one I’ve seen his friends make many times. However, when they do it, it never stirs a deep well of rage in me. Nor does it inspire the desire to grab the friend’s hand and put him through a window.

  As if he senses my thoughts, Asa’s head shoots up, and his eyes catch mine. I don’t know what he sees, but it’s probably everything because Asa understands me better than anyone I’ve ever met. His expression clouds with worry, and he stands up abruptly and starts to make his way to me.

  As he edges around other patrons, I turn to Jim. “Don’t worry about it,” I say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention, but I know Asa, and I know he wouldn’t do anything. Nevertheless, forewarned is forearmed, and I’m grateful.”

  He nods, looking relieved. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t want Hayden to put him in an uncomfortable position and for you to get the wrong idea.”

  That’s already happening, I think, but instead, I sit back in my chair and stare at Asa as he walks towards me.

  “Alright?” he asks brightly, bending down to kiss me quickly.

  “I’m fine,” I say coolly.

  He seems at a bit of a loss at my coolness, and worry creases his forehead. “Well, that’s good,” he finally says lamely. He brightens. “Do you want another drink?”

  “Might as well.” My voice is distant, and I hate it, but I can’t help it.

  He straightens up. “Okay, I’ll get one. Anyone else want one?” The rest of the table chime in drunkenly with their requests, and he looks slightly overwhelmed.

  Jim stands up. “I’ll help you,” he says with a smile. “You’ll never remember all that.”

  One of the older blokes on the cast laughs. “He can’t remember his bloody lines. Don’t look for fucking miracles with your drink.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Asa says and raises his middle finger to a chorus of boos.

  He runs his fingers absentmindedly through my curls like he does when we lie together, as if his fingers move independently from his brain. Then he walks off, and I smile after him, the wave of love I feel for him making me forget my crossness and unsettled feelings. It all comes flooding back, however, when someone moves into Asa’s chair. The smile on my lips dies as I meet Hayden’s eyes.

  “Can I help you?” I ask sharply, not even attempting to hide my hostility.

  He doesn’t attempt the false smile he usually greets me with. Instead, he leans back and smiles coldly. “Asa tells me you’ve been tog
ether a year.”

  I feel a flare of rage. “Did he? I didn’t realise I was a topic of conversation between the two of you.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes flitting over the crowd of people at the bar. I know when he sees Asa’s broad back because his face fills with intensity. Then he turns back to me. “You don’t come up much,” he says casually. “We’ve usually got better things to talk about.”

  I stare at him and then jerk as Connor, one of the younger cast members, leans over the table towards me. “We’re going to dance, Jude. Are you coming?”

  I shake my head quickly, my mind tumbling. “No, thanks. I’m waiting for a drink.”

  He laughs. “You sure? Might be for the best. I don’t think they’ve recovered yet from your attempt at doing a head spin.”

  “My headache took ages to go,” I say sourly. “I really think Asa should have stopped me, rather than laughing like a fucking giant, bearded hyena.”

  Connor smiles and claps me warmly on the shoulder. “Nah, he can’t say no to you, Jude. The sky would fall in before that happens.”

  He shoots Hayden a surprisingly hostile glance, and I suddenly realise that he’s trying to get me away from him. I tip my head in thanks before he and a few others head off. When I turn back to Hayden, I find him watching Asa again. Asa’s leaning on the bar talking to the barmaid, and her face is full of laughter, the way people’s faces often are around him.

  “I think you’ve got something to say to me,” I say harshly. “Now seems like a good time.”

  He startles as if I’ve caught him out, but then his gaze travels over me slowly and he smiles. My stomach dips. There’s too much sly pleasure in that look to mean anything good.

  He settles back into his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “I wanted to thank you.”

  I’m shocked, and it shows. “What for?”

  He shrugs and shoots a glance around the pub, before leaning towards me. “For keeping my place warm.”