by Trina Lane
“Javier!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll call you later.”
He turned to leave and the acid that bubbled in his gut threatened to spew all over the walkway leading to Malaki’s front door.
“Wait, wait! What’s up? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just. The job is mine if I want it, and I thought….” He shrugged.
Malaki rushed forward and threw his arms around Javier. “Fuck, yeah. I knew you could do it!”
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. There is a huge, hot, nearly naked man pressed up against me.
Javier leaned in, inhaling the scent of Malaki’s soap. His fingers itched to dig into the muscles covering the man’s back, but the sound of someone clearing their throat froze him in his tracks. Malaki spun around and the towel slipped dangerously low. As Javier reached to save Malaki’s decency, his fingers ended up brushing the curve of the man’s spine. Muscles twitched and Malaki stiffened.
“Jaxon, Javier got the job! Isn’t that great!”
“Congrats. I know it’s a nice day and all, but unless you want your other neighbors to really get to know you, maybe this little gathering should be moved indoors.”
Malaki tightened his grip on his towel. “You’re right. Come on, Javier. We’ll go get drinks to celebrate.”
He looked between Malaki and Jaxon. Jaxon’s frown took over his face. Even though the two men were not involved, clearly the blond had developed some feelings for Malaki and was hoping to take their friendship to the next level. If he were a better man, he would step away, but he was just enough of a selfish bastard that he wasn’t willing to simply hand over Malaki.
“Sounds good.” He put his hand on Malaki’s back to guide him towards his front door. His skin was warm and firm. Sweat beaded up beneath Javier’s suit, and it wasn’t from the heat outside.
They entered Malaki’s condo, which looked much more lived-in lately. Having furniture made a big difference. Javier had firsthand knowledge of just how comfortable the large overstuffed pieces Malaki had chosen were.
“I’m going to get dressed, then we can head out to Sinclair’s and grab some cold ones.”
Malaki disappeared into his bedroom and instead of Jaxon watching the miles of muscled, tattooed skin, he was watching Javier. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his suit and met the Jaxon’s gaze.
“Didn’t mean to burst in on the two of you.”
“Hmm, but not gracious enough to leave.”
“Was there a reason to? Malaki’s never mentioned that the two of you were anything but friendly neighbors.”
Malaki came out of the room dressed, but the sight was no less pleasing. Javier really needed to figure out what he wanted, or not so much what he wanted but what he was going to do about these feelings that kept inconveniently churning inside him. If he wasn’t going to stake a claim, then he really did need to step aside.
“Let’s go. We can take my truck.”
Chapter Eight
Malaki leaned a little harder on Javier as they made their way along the balcony to his front door. He really wasn’t that buzzed, but it gave him an excuse to get closer to the man. To feel Javier’s body pressed up against his. Earlier, when he’d hugged Javier outside, it had almost become an embarrassing moment as his cock had nearly made a tent of his towel. He’d been holding back on his feelings, unwilling to push Javier and scare the man off after everything he’d been through. But it had become painfully clear that if their relationship was going to move to the next level, it was going to be up to him. They got to his front door and he dug his keys out of his pocket.
“It’s late. You want to stay over?” Was it his imagination or did Javier press against his back as he opened the door?
“I shouldn’t.”
Malaki chuckled. “I shouldn’t have had that last drink, but it seemed like such a good idea at the time.”
He opened the door and the two of them walked inside. Jaxon had declined to come home with them, saying he had a group of friends that had texted, wanting to meet up. Malaki got the feeling his neighbor had picked up on the tension between him and Javier.
He stood in his dark living room. Javier shut the door and Malaki found it harder to breathe. It only took a few steps and he had Javier’s back against the wall. Javier dug his fingers into Malaki’s chest and his eyes were wide open, but Malaki didn’t sense any fear radiating from him.
“What are you doing?” Javier asked, softly.
“What I’ve wanted to do for ages.”
“You’re drunk. People regret things they do when they’re drunk.”
Malaki leaned in and skimmed his lips against Javier’s neck. “I’m not really drunk. I just wanted to get you back up here.” His hands shook as he slid them inside Javier’s suit coat. “You look so fucking hot in this suit. All night I’ve imagined stripping each layer off, one by one. I’ve thought of doing that lots of times.”
Shivers ran through him at Javier’s exhalation of breath against his skin.
“I nearly passed out when I saw you in nothing but that towel earlier. But I don’t know about this, Mal. Don’t get me wrong, I’m attracted to you. I’ve imagined…a lot. But I don’t… I can’t trust myself.”
“Is that what’s been holding you back?”
Javier nodded and sighed when Malaki grazed his temple with his lips.
“Then don’t trust yourself. Trust me. What you had with those others isn’t us. You’re not the same person you were, and I’m most certainly not some psychopath.”
“I… I should tell you more about all that.”
“And I’ll listen. When you’re ready. For tonight I want to touch you, maybe share a few kisses.”
“You think I should trust the man who manipulated me into his home?”
Malaki froze and realized he’d made a serious tactical error. Here he’d waited to make a move because he knew Javier was skittish about starting a relationship, then the first thing he’d done was to manipulate the man.
Javier cupped Malaki’s cheek. “Sorry, bad joke. I’m a little nervous. It’s not just the trust thing. I… I’ve never been in this situation before.”
He cradled Javier’s hand and led him over to the sofa. Javier started to take off his suit coat, but Malaki stopped him. “Let me?” He walked around and rested his hands on Javier’s shoulders. The scent of Javier’s cologne drifted up and teased his senses. They were really going to do this after so many months. He rested his chin on the top of Javier’s head, savoring the moment, then slid his jacket off. The warmth of Javier’s skin through his shirt made Malaki’s fingers tingle with the need to explore, but he needed to take one step at a time. He tossed the suit coat onto a chair, then they sat side by side. Typically, the sofa allowed them to spread out while they kicked back and watched a game or movie. But, tonight, Malaki made sure to sit right next to Javier. The moment he sat and took Javier’s hand, his body settled comfortably. Javier, on the other hand, was twitchier than muscles hooked up to an electro-stim machine.
“Talk to me.”
“Let’s just say that in all my previous relationships I was…in charge, and back there I was…not.”
“Mmm, are we talking you tend to be a little bossy or—”
“I was a Dom. That’s how I met Luca. The man who took me.”
“He was another? Like you?”
“No, he was pretending to be a submissive.”
“I know there’s more to this story, but for our immediate situation, are you telling me that you’d feel more comfortable if you held me up against the wall?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Javier whispered.
“Then how about we figure out what we want together? Right now, I’d really like to kiss you. Can I do that?”
Javier tilted his head up and Malaki took that as permission. He slid his thumb across Javier’s lower lip. Warm breath moistened Javier’s skin. Seated as they were, Javier’s head only came up to his shoul
der. Malaki lowered his head inch by inch. Javier had made no mention of any sexual trauma as part of his ordeal, but he wasn’t willing to take anything for granted.
Malaki brushed his lips against Javier’s for a moment. Time froze and his heart stilled until Javier leaned in again. He could have captured Javier’s lips and devoured the man, but instead Malaki held still. Javier slid his hands up Malaki’s chest and around his neck. He pulled down and brought their mouths together again. It was everything he’d imagined kissing Javier would be, and so much more. His heart raced and his skin burned where they touched. But it was a burn he would gladly suffer, because the pleasure far outweighed the pain.
“Javi,” he whispered.
“I like that. I’ve always been Sir or Master. It was something I expected, I felt was deserved, but never made me catch my breath like the sound of my name on your lips.”
He gathered his man in his arms and merged their mouths together in a slow exploration.
Javier couldn’t remember a time when he’d kissed a man simply for the pleasure of doing so. For so many years, kisses had been either a means to an end or a power play. Something to give his subs as a reward. But kissing Malaki was an experience that had no ulterior motive other than sharing touch and taste.
They shifted their bodies on the couch and Javier ended up on his back with Malaki above him. He stiffened.
“I’m sorry. Here, let me—”
“No, no. It’s okay. Just gut reaction, but you actually feel…” He squirmed a little and wrapped his arms around Malaki. “I think I like it.”
“I think I like it too, but I will confess most of the guys I’ve been with have always assumed that I like taking charge all the time.”
“When I sought out play partners, I always looked for men who were bigger than me. There was something about getting a man whose appearance screamed uber-alpha to bend to my will that really pumped blood to my cock. One who looked like he could bench-press a small car, but became a puddle when I fucked him.” He smoothed out Malaki’s frown. “I can see the questions swirling around in your head, but I don’t have the answers yet.”
“We can just take it one question at a time.”
Javier pulled Malaki down while arching up against his larger body. He was certain that his past patterns had been a psychological ploy with himself to see if he had what it took to earn the submission of a man who could physically overpower him. Lying beneath Malaki was a drastic role reversal for him, but Javier was determined to shut off his brain and ride the wave of desire reawakening his body.
“You know, I really wasn’t sure this was possible anymore.”
Malaki nibbled on Javier’s neck as he opened the button on his collar. “What’s that?”
Javier arched his hips, throbbing their erections together. “I haven’t been able to maintain any kind of hard-on since my escape.”
Malaki sat up and pulled Javier with him. “I haven’t asked you anything about what happened because I wanted you to feel comfortable enough to share with me. As your friend, I’m here to support you. As something more, I’m hoping to help you heal.”
“I appreciate that, and I want you to know that I haven’t been purposely holding back from you. I’ve been seeing a therapist to help me work through my issues.”
“I’m glad.”
“Sorry, my little comment killed the mood.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I just want to make sure that even though we’re working things out as we go, I don’t stumble on some kind of painful situation.”
Javier wiped his hands on his pants. “My body went through a lot of trauma. Some of which you know, since you read my medical reports, but none of the torture I endured involved sexual abuse. My therapist feels that my recent issues are more mental than physical.”
“Hmm, well, I’ve always been a big supporter of continuing your therapy program at home. Wait. That sounds weird.”
Javier chuckled. “That’s okay. I get it. And you are the best therapist I’ve ever worked with. So you want to design a program for me? You can personally supervise my progress.”
“Now those are some goals I look forward to achieving.”
Chapter Nine
Javier studied his tablet with his first patient’s chart information. He was seeing a high school pitcher who’d recently undergone Tommy John surgery. The occurrence of the ligament repair procedure had dramatically increased in the last several years. Some people chalked it up to awareness from the media, others that the improvement in imaging caught the injury earlier. In Javier’s opinion, kids were throwing too hard and too much at ages when their bodies were not prepared for the strain.
The notes indicated that this particular young man had already caught the eye of a couple of major league teams. As a former athlete who’d earned his college degree as a result of his ability to race down the grid iron, Javier could understand the almost panic-inducing desire to rehab as quickly as possible to get back on the field.
“You good to go?” Davis popped his head around the corner of his office door.
“Yep. It’s funny, I thought I would be nervous, just until I get that first one under my belt, you know? But I can’t stop smiling.”
“Feel a little bit like coming home after a long trip?”
“Yeah, I guess.” The door opened and a young man in an arm sling walked in. “Showtime!”
Davis gave him a thumbs-up. The young man’s father stood behind him and appeared to be studying the facility, no doubt assessing whether they were up to the job of getting his player back on the field.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Alde. You must be Francisco.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
The kid had quite a deep mature voice, but still that sullen monotone quality of a teenager.
“Frank, manners.”
He looked over at his father and Javier practically heard the internal sarcastic dialogue rolling around the kid’s head.
Ah, teenagers.
“Come this way and we’ll start your intake assessment. Mr. Martinez, if you’d like to have a seat in the waiting area? We have some comfortable chairs with a TV, refreshments, a work area if you need it and iPads with e-zines and other games.”
“Sweet. Wish all the doctors’ offices had been like that,” Francisco said.
“It is a very nice set-up. In my experience, there’s nothing worse than having to go to the doctor and being forced to wait next to a stranger who can’t stop coughing, while battling a migraine and angsting over deadlines back at the office, or in your case maybe your ERA and how you’re going to manage getting that cutter down in the zone.”
Francisco laughed, and Javier thought he’d managed to establish a good rapport with the kid. He was here to work and help his patients get back to their daily activity level, but nowhere was it written in the physical therapist handbook that he couldn’t be friendly. There was an art to the balance between being professional and casual with patients.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should be with my son, at least initially. What if you have questions?”
“I totally understand if that would make you more comfortable.” Francisco was clearly old enough to be alone in an appointment, but Dad seemed to need his hovering rights. “We will be in this first cube, so if I do need any information I can easily come ask.”
“Dad, I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first time in PT.”
“Okay, okay. I do have some emails to return.”
“Great! This way, Francisco.”
“You can call me Paco. Everyone on the team does.”
It was good that the kid was still thinking in terms of team environment. If he’d given up on his dream of pitching in the big leagues, he’d probably do everything to avoid the association with baseball.
Javier led him into the curtained-off cubicle that they used for assessments and treatments that required some privacy. He really liked that about his new job. Most rehab facilities were just one big room with
scattered tables and equipment. As a provider, he hadn’t thought much about it, but now, having been a patient too, he understood how having everyone being able to watch his progress or lack thereof had been uncomfortable.
“So tell me about your game. What pitches do you have? What’s your top speed?”
“I’ve got a solid four and two seam fastball in the low nineties, and lefties can’t catch up with my curveball. I’d just started working on a cutter when this happened.”
“That’s awesome. Well, I’m going to do my best to get you back on the mound for next season.”
“You really think it’s possible?”
“The surgical report indicates that everything went as well as possible. If you maintain your rehab schedule and things are progressing well, I don’t see why you can’t start throwing in the spring.”
The kid teared up a little. It was as though he’d been putting up a good front for his parents and teammates, but the worry had been slowly eating him up deep inside. Javier understood the feeling.
“Look, I recently had to go through my own rehab for knee injury. My playing days are over, but I’m far from the point in my life when I anticipate nothing more than sitting in my recliner. I’m going to lay it on the line. This is not going to be easy. You’re going to hurt, sweat, probably cry and even hate me a little before we’re done. But I promise not to give up on you if you promise not to give up on yourself.”
“I can work with that. What do we do first?”
* * * *
Javier took a sip of his drink and sighed. A pleasant warmth from the tequila rushed through his bloodstream. The noise from the crowd at Zandy’s wasn’t so overwhelming that he, Brandon, Tyler and Malaki couldn’t enjoy their conversation. He hadn’t told Brandon and Tyler about the change in his and Malaki’s relationship, but given the looks Brandon had been throwing his way for the past twenty minutes, the man was picking up a shift in the current. It was fun to torment him a little, and see how long they could go before the question was blurted out.
