Page 23

Alex

L ance won exactly zero games the whole hour we played. It was enough that I actually felt embarrassed for him, but he loved it. People were placing bets on him losing within twenty minutes, and he’d just lost his fourth game when my phone pinged with a text.

I stepped back from my space next to Lance, and someone easily moved in to fill it. The whole pool table was surrounded, and no one missed me.

Brad’s name flashed up on the screen as I pulled it out of my back pocket. I really didn’t want to see what he had to say. He could have come down to the bar to find me, tried to apologize, or even just pretend nothing had happened and played pool with the rest of us.

I unlocked my phone, and my eyes widened instantly at his text.

911—hurry.

I’d only left him an hour ago, what could he have done since then?

But what was the point of ask how badly he could have fucked up in the space of an hour? It was Brad.

What’s wrong? What’s happened?

My heart rate spiked as I clutched my phone desperately.

It might just be nothing. He could just feel guilty about how we left things, so he was being a selfish asshole again.

It’s seriously bad. You’ve got to come back ASAP.

“What is it?” Lance’s soft breath brushed over my cheek as he leaned in close. “Is something the matter?”

I looked at him, meeting his patient smile.

“I think I have to go,” I croaked, worry staining my voice.

He glanced at my phone, my knuckles white around the solid plastic case.

“Is it Brad?” Lance asked quietly, his face hardening.

“Yeah, I just… He wouldn’t message me like this, you know? Even if we were fighting, he wouldn’t do something like this.”

“You know him best,” Lance said carefully, looking at the phone again. “Just don’t get too wrapped up, yeah? After the grand speech you gave me about not wanting to get hurt, you can’t let me down.”

“I can’t promise you anything,” I said, sighing heavily. I’d already let Brad beat me emotionally, and I had no idea what was waiting for me in our room.

Lance patted me on the shoulder, giving a fake, mournful sigh. “Just text me if you need me. I'll be waiting for you like the patient dog I am,” he said, loud enough to be picked by the others.

“You never miss a chance, do you?” I asked under my breath, and he smirked a reply.

I gave him a sharp nod before I shot out of the hotel bar, running full speed to make it back to our room.

If Brad was injured or sick, or even if something had happened to his family, I don’t know what I’d do. But I had to be there for him. No matter how upset I was that things didn’t go the way I had been dreaming about, all this was still my fault.

If I hadn’t listened to Lance, if I hadn’t pushed Brad, if I hadn’t kept praying there was something more than just friendship there for him, then we wouldn’t have argued in the first place.

And I would never have been able to know what it was like to kiss him, either.

I flew onto the fifth floor, my feet slamming into the carpet as I raced toward our room. Hands shaking, I fumbled with the keycard, getting it through the slot on the third try.

“Brad!?” I called out the moment I twisted the handle, flinging open the door and bursting inside.

Heart in my throat, I expected the worst.

He’d be on the floor, choking, or in the bathroom bleeding out. Or he’d broken a bone or become stuck in something, or he’d be in bed with a sudden fever or food poisoning.

My phone didn’t leave my hand the whole time I ran, my thumb ready to type 911.

But I stopped dead as I saw him, the world plunging into silence. The only sound was the thud of my phone slipping from my hand and hitting the carpet. Quickly followed by Brad’s gasp as he pumped his cock in front of me, grinding his hips into his hand.

“Alex, man, what—ugh—what took you so long?”

His bed sat under a small window which reflected the orange light from the street below and cast his shadow on the carpet.

With his shoulders flat on the wall, his whole back bowed with his legs wide open. It was the same position Lance had ended up in when he smashed him into the barrier, except Brad’s legs were open, he only wore a shirt, and he groaned as he pumped himself furiously.

I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Maybe I’d fallen asleep at the table because Lance was so bad at pool, I gave up watching. Or I’d never gone to the bar in the first place. Maybe I was just having another nervous dream to compensate for all my unfulfilled wishes. That’s why they were playing out in front of me instead.

“What are you doing?” Brad asked, his voice cracking. “Aren’t you going to help me?”

One more blink just to check, a slow breath to make sure I was still alive and hadn’t fallen into a black hole.

I numbly released the door. It banged shut behind me, vibrating through my feet as the lock automatically clicked into place.

No. I wasn’t dreaming. Brad really was there, his thighs tense, knees spread, a Redhill Kites shirt pulled up over his chest so he could see his cock.

“This was your emergency?” I asked flatly, doing whatever I could not to groan at the wave of heat which nearly floored me as he stroked himself again.

Pre-cum beaded on his cockhead as he crested the tip and moaned, staring me straight in the eyes.

“Fuck, yes. I haven’t come for days. It’s a national crisis.”

Time slowed as I tried to make sense of every emotion flying through me. Rage, lust, pain, frustration, happiness, with sadness floating in the background. All of it culminating in a blank-eyed stare as the guy who kept insisting he was my best friend turned into a stranger.

“Dude, look how red my dick is.” He kept going, kept pumping, the bed creaking as he shook his hips. “I’ve been stroking myself for half an hour, and I still haven’t come,” he gasped as he palmed his cockhead. “Come on, I need you.”

I took a step toward him, trying to see if this was some kind of joke.

Like, since he’d found out I was gay, he was seeing how far he could push it. Or he thought I was in love with Lance, so he was trying to win me over with a stunt like this.

Which was just another part of my vain hope.

But I hadn’t wanted it like this. This wasn’t what I’d pictured.

No matter how many times I’d used a plug or fucked myself with a vibrator, it could never measure up to his thick length. His body shuddered away as his half-lidded face filled with desire at the sight of me.

My eyes fluttered closed as pain stabbed me deep in my chest. Everything I wanted was just spread out before me. It was an open invitation to try everything I’d been dreaming about, but Brad was just playing with me again. Like when he sucked me off, it was all just fun to him.

“Alex?” he asked so innocently, as if we were just hanging out, and I got distracted.

Anger bit through me, jumping out from the swirling emotions to take control.

Like this didn’t mean anything to him.

Like this was just a game.

Like my feelings were there to be played with, even though he had no idea what I’d gone through for years.

And, in those two seconds it took for my anger to flare, I noticed he was wearing my hockey shirt. My number was printed on the arm he stroked with.

“What the hell are you thinking?” I snapped at him. “Are you even thinking anymore!?”

Yet I was the one thinking about how to steal back my shirt and tuck it under my pillow so I could keep the smell of him jerking off to me.

“Well, yeah, obviously. I’m thinking you’re the only one I want to rescue me.”

“I thought you were dying, Brad!” I shouted as I stepped closer to him. “I thought you were hurt, or sick, or that something had happened.”

“Something has happened, dude.” His eyes dropped to his cock before his lips quirked. “And it’s all because of you.”

I drew in a furious breath to keep myself calm, even though my nails dug hard enough into my palms to sting.

“Brad,” I said, trying to rein myself back in. “I thought I made it clear I was going to see Lance.”

That was something else Lance kept insisting on—tell the truth, but let the other person draw their own conclusions. It was dirty and cheap, but it was better than lying to Brad.

That was before Brad pulled this kind of stunt.

“And what about now?” he groaned as he dragged his hand to his tip, rubbing his thumb over his slit, captivating me with the way his pre-cum layered over his smooth cockhead. “Don’t you want to stay after seeing this?”

I clenched my jaw, determined not to get pulled into whatever he was doing. I had spent so long resisting the urge to confess that I could still do it, even like this.

“Come on, Alex.” The bed creaked as he pushed himself up, his knees hooking over the edge of the thin mattress. “Be honest. If you’re here drooling over my cock, then Lance isn’t exactly boyfriend material, is he?”

“And you are!?” I snapped, another shot of pain hitting me straight in the heart. “Are you really suggesting I’d prefer this over Lance?” I threw my hand at him. As if I wasn’t dying to give up any shred of dignity I had and drop to the floor so I could taste him.

“Basically. I mean, who could resist this package?” He smirked as he squeezed his cock, his dimple grabbing me again.

I swallowed down my need as I turned away, staring at the dull blue paint of the hotel walls. It had really come, the moment where Brad was offering himself to me on a plate, and I was still too scared to say yes.

But was I ever going to say yes at this rate? Or was I going to carry on hiding forever, only popping my head up when people like Lance called me out?

“If I’m so hot that you’d rather stay with me, then you know Lance isn’t really giving you what you want.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. Part of me didn’t understand why I was so tired when nothing had really happened with Brad. But I knew it was because I kept hiding, even though we’d come this far.

It was more stressful being on the cusp than finding a real answer for what this was.

Lance was my last excuse, the one thing I could use to hold myself back.

I ran my tongue over my teeth as I slowly inhaled. I couldn’t say it to him when he wouldn’t stop stroking his cock.

“I’m not with Lance,” I said. The bed creaked as Brad shifted, sitting farther up on the bed. “Lance isn’t my boyfriend, we’re not dating; we’re not even interested in each other or anything like that. He has someone else he likes.”

There was a beat of silence as I looked at him spread out in front of me. His confident smile slipped, and I instinctively knew he was going to say something stupid.

“Seriously? You mean, he was just stringing you along?”

“No, it wasn’t like that…” I trailed off, searching for the best way to explain how I was lying to him because he was too dense to realize I loved him, and I was too scared to tell him—and this was the result.

I watched him, hoping for some kind of shock or surprise, praying the confession would change something…anything…

“Wow,” he replied, his brows shooting up. “It seems like you’re the one with the emergency.”

I stilled, my anger shaking me, trying to grab control of the fire of fury which he’d suddenly ignited. It sat in me, like a bomb waiting to release itself. All he had to do was say one more word and it would explode.

“Wait, shit. Sorry. That’s not what I meant. I was just trying to—”

“Be quiet, Brad,” I said carefully so I didn’t set it off. As long as I could breathe, I could keep myself calm, but trembles still wracked me.

I was always about hiding my feelings, swallowing them down so Brad couldn’t see the cringy side of me. The one who loved him so much that I let him get away with absolutely anything, like the bullshit laid out in front of me.

But I couldn’t take it anymore. It was deliberate. It wasn’t just his dumbass not seeing how whenever he touched me or said something even vaguely romantic it made my heart leap. He was intentionally playing with me.

I never thought telling him I was gay would end up with him hurting me like this.

“Dude, I just meant that it’s pretty fucking lame of Lance to flirt with you like that and not follow it through, yeah? I wasn’t trying to shit on you.”

My gaze swung back to him, my breath in my throat as I tried to control my temper. But it was ebbing and flowing like a storm against the rocks that was Brad Owens.

“I know what you meant,” I said through gritted teeth. “I know what you fucking meant. I’m just so pathetic that the only way anyone is going to fuck me is if they do it like you? Because I’m so crap at this I can’t even get someone like Lance Austin? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? Not even a guy who fucks anything that moves wants me.”

Because that was it, wasn’t it? It had never been about Brad actually being interested in me—not in the slightest. It was all about getting one up on Lance.

“Lance isn’t like that, Brad,” I sighed heavily. “He’s never been like that. It’s just a show he puts on.”

“Then you obviously can’t see how he’s nuts about you!”

“Are you literally only doing this because you think Lance likes me? Is this even about me?” I asked, my voice cracking as my hurt seeped through it. “Do you even care what something like this might do to me? Don’t you see how fucked up it is that you’re doing this to someone who’s meant to be your friend?”

“Yeah, but you like it though,” he shot back instantly, giving me a cheeky grin like that somehow solved it all.

Pain slammed into me, and it took all I had not to flinch away from him. Even when we were arguing, he still stroked his cock, lazily playing with the head while I was trying to make a point.

I couldn’t take seeing him like this and not react. I shucked off my jacket, throwing it onto my bed by the door as I strode forward. In seconds, I’d dropped to my knees right in front of him.

“Alex?” he said, sucking a breath.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I asked as I glared up at him. I batted his hand away to grip his cock myself.

Nerves swamped me as I realized what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop myself. His cock hovered next to my chin. Red, and throbbing, and so hot that my hand twitched around him like I’d been burned.

We were both caught in silence. My heart in my throat, his heavy breaths above me.

Next thing I knew, my hand moved, pumping him just like he’d done to himself, and his deep groan rattled through my body.

In every scenario I’d ever dreamed up, I never imagined I’d go down on him while feeling like he was robbing me.

And he moaned, his eyes fluttering as his other hand fell to the bed. He leaned back, relaxing against the wall. His thighs spasmed as I kept my gaze fixed on him, exactly like he’d done to me when our positions had been reversed.

I didn’t even give him a chance to speak as I opened my mouth and took him as far in as I could, my lips hitting the top of my hand, trembling as his taste covered my tongue.

All my anger disappeared as Brad’s hardness pinned my tongue, and I licked along the ridge of his cock.

“Holy shit! Alex, what the fuck, man. I didn’t mean—”

But he cut off as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him, desperate to get more of his thick taste. I suddenly cared about nothing else except making him come. I wanted him completely covering my mouth, layered on so thick I’d wake up tomorrow tasting him.

“Oh fuck,” Brad moaned as I pulled back, running my togue over the tip. “Oh fuck, Alex, you’re so hot.”

He kept talking, as if he was trying to reassure me, but I didn’t believe him. I’d heard him say exactly the same thing to so many of the girls he flirted with. It was like his catchphrase at this point.

I wanted to see him come undone. He thought he could play with me so easily, so I wanted to show him what I could do to him, even though I had no idea what would really work. Real life was so much different than watching porn and practicing sucking on my fingers.

I moved back far enough to hold the tip just between my teeth, licking him gently. I didn’t know how much pressure I was supposed to apply, and what else I should do. I’d never done this before, and just the sensation of being next to him like this was making me so nervous.

“Alex, you’re killing me here, fuck.”

He buried his hand in my hair, pressing me down. I remembered how much he liked it when I did it to him, and I sunk into the knowing that he wanted to keep me close. Even if it was just because of his dick, and it didn’t really have anything to do with me.

My large hands held at least half of his cock, the rest bumped against the back of my throat. He shifted his hips, pitching himself upward with a moan.

My vision suddenly went white as his cock invaded my throat. I burst out coughing, his hand tightening in my hair as he dragged me away from him.

“Don’t push yourself. You gotta enjoy it, yeah?”

I kept my mouth down; I couldn’t reply to him when it all felt so screwed up and sore .

I licked him again before taking him back in my mouth. A slurp rang out from around him, and I froze.

Shame threw me off so quickly, I would have dragged myself off him if he hadn’t been clutching me.

Was he going to point it out? Was he going to find it as embarrassing as I did?

“Do you like my cock so much that you’re fucking gobbling me down?” Brad’s question somehow made everything ten times hotter.

I didn’t think it was meant to be sexy, but seeing the gleam in Brad’s eye as he asked just made me want to do more to get him going. Even when he was being an asshole, I still wanted to give him everything I could.

“Have you…” he trailed off as he loosened his grip on my hair.

I looked up at him, pulling my mouth from his cock, still holding him in my hand. There was a spot of pre-cum on my lips, so I swiped it off with my tongue.

His eyes instantly widened, fixated on that exact spot, distracted again.

“What is it, Brad? Why did you stop me?”

It was like he came back into focus.

“Have you ever sucked anyone off before?” he asked breathlessly.

My brow creased and I glanced away from him, straight at the carpet under my knees.

My cheeks burned redder as the silence thickened between us. I was suddenly ready to escape again.

“You… You mean I’m your first?” he asked, his voice cracking in shock.

I looked up at him, trying not to choke on my tongue as I realized why he was asking.

“Yeah, Brad,” I replied with a hard stare. “You’re my first.”