Page 18

18

MICHAEL

T he self-defense class goes off without a hitch. I'm impressed at how seriously everyone takes it, especially Devon. He doesn’t look like much, but he sure can cling on to an attacker if he needs to. I shake my head and laugh—he’s like a spider monkey, every time I pull his hand free from one arm, he has reattached himself with the other.

The club graciously lets me use their facilities to clean up afterwards—there isn’t a stitch of clothes that isn’t soaked with sweat. I strip down, put my clean clothes in a locker, and head into the showers. Damn, these facilities are awesome. Multiple shower stalls, each equipped with a bench, detachable shower head, and all the shampoo and shower gel a guy could ask for.

After turning on the water, I hang my towel up on a hook inside the stall and pull the shower curtain closed. Well, as closed as it will go. Whoever ordered these didn’t measure beforehand. There's a ten-inch gap on either side which doesn’t offer much privacy.

Oh well, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in here anyway. I'm mid-lather when I hear the shower room door open. I squint and try to look through the suds to see who has come inside, but I'm not having any luck. Whoever it is begins to whistle, but not in a fun way. The creepy tone and cadence of the notes send an unexpected shiver up my spine.

As fast as I can, I hold my head under the water and rinse my hair so I can see. The creeper is moving closer, but then suddenly the whistling stops. The sound of the little metal fasteners holding the shower curtain in place clink, and I jump. Balling my hands into fists, I turn to face whoever has entered my personal space, but no one is there. The curtain has definitely been moved, but whoever moved it is gone.

Stepping out of the shower, I move slowly down the length of stalls, checking to see if I'm still alone. By the time I reach the end and turn to head toward the door, it swings open. Devon steps into the room and stops, looking at my naked, wet body. The twinkle in his eye makes me look back at my stall, wishing I’d brought my towel with me.

“Can I get you anything, coach?” Devon asks. He licks his lips and smiles. “I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need.”

Without a word, I rush back to grab my towel, wrap it around my waist, and sigh with relief. “I’m good, Devon.”

“Don’t I know it?” He swishes his booty toward me like a supermodel on a runway. “You sure are good.”

“If you don’t mind, I need to finish my shower,” I motion toward the door with my chin. “If you’re not here to shower yourself… in your own stall, I’d appreciate some privacy.” As the last few words come out of my mouth, Patrick walks in wearing nothing but a towel.

He stops, clearly shocked to see me standing there with Devon.

“Suit yourself,” Devon says with an attitude. He twirls on his heel and marches toward the door. He stops as he reaches Patrick and says to him, “He wants his privacy. What does that even mean?” And then walks out.

Patrick starts to laugh. “Did he try to rub his ass against you like a cat in heat?”

I wipe my forehead dry and nod. “He’s something else, huh?”

“If you want your privacy, I can wait out there until you’re done,” Patrick says.

The way the towel hangs loose around his waist, the way his abs become visible with each breath, I'm glad the towel is secured around my waist. “Nah, I don’t mind you being in here.”

Patrick wags his eyebrows, but it seems more involuntary and less lecherous. He follows me to the back of the room where my stall is and goes into the one next to mine. We both pull our ill-fitting curtains closed and turn on the water. Soon the steam begins billowing up over the walls and filling the entire room. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since turning on the water, and I'm starting to feel the need to speak.

I'm done washing, but I'm not ready to turn off the water. The more I think about Patrick, naked, wet, touching himself in the shower next to me, the harder my dick grows. Reaching for the shower gel, I lube up my cock and stroke it a couple of times and nearly come. My stomach muscles tighten, and I straighten my legs, locking my knees. I hold my cock tight at the end until the surge of cum stops and I feel I can move without blowing my load.

“It was great to see you today, Patrick.” My voice sounds strange to me, my throat tight with sexual need.

“Thank you so much for showing us how to subdue our attackers,” Patrick says. “I wish I’d had a little more one-on-one time with you… if I’m being honest.”

My cock hardens once again, and my balls tingle with the beginning of the surge. “Are you busy tonight? I’d be happy to give you some more time… show you a few other kinds of moves.”

Am I coming on too strong? Am I being creepy? God, I want to feel him in my arms, touch his chest and ass, stroke his cock, and feel loved. Despite the hot water washing over me, I get goosebumps.

Patrick turns off his water, and I hear him pull his curtain to the side. “I’m free tonight. I’d love to learn more from you.” The tone of his voice is higher than normal; is he nervous?

I'm about to turn off my water when Patrick, dripping wet and naked, steps in front of my curtain. Pulling it open, I welcome him inside, and he gladly steps in. He looks down at my semi-hard cock and reaches up to touch my chest. His hands feel like fire against my nipples as he slowly rubs them between his fingers. I fight the need that is growing inside me to pick him up and carry him to the benches, envisioning a passionate kiss between us followed by honest and passionate lovemaking.

I take his face into my hands, and our eyes meet. It's like an unspoken message has passed between us; we both want the same thing. We both need to feel our hearts sync while lying next to each other in post-coital afterglow. Patrick leaps up, wrapping his legs around my waist while holding me around my chest. I catch him up in my arms and lean in for a kiss. Our lips meet, his soft and full, our tongues teasing, dancing, and sliding over each other.

My breath grows heavy as I hold him tight, slowly walking out to the bench where I lower him down.

“Wait,” Patrick says, looking over my shoulder at the door. “I don’t want our first time to be here… at work.”

I nod, kneeling so we can be face-to-face. I trace my finger along his jawline and smile. “I’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with. Your apartment or mine?”

“Meet me at my place, you know the address,” Patrick says before butterfly kissing me on the lips. God, his lips taste like fresh strawberries and mint. This guy is so perfect for me.

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I say.

“Great.” He gets up and hurries out into the locker room. Somehow, I need to get my unceasing boner to stop bouncing with each heartbeat and go away long enough to get my clothes on and drive to his place.

I hurry over to the shower and splash some cold water on my face, chest, and cock. That’ll do the trick.

Pulling up in front of Patrick’s apartment, thirty-five minutes later, I don’t feel bad about being five minutes late. I’ve already had to break a bunch of laws to make it there when I did, including speeding and maybe running a few yellow lights. Not my finest moments as a human, but my heart won’t stop racing with excitement.

Somehow, he’s beaten me here, which is in and of itself impressive. I take the steps two at a time and knock on his door. He pulls it open almost immediately and yanks me inside by the front of my shirt. Immediately, without a word, we begin kissing, hard and fast, breathless within minutes.

Patrick pulls me down the hallway and into his bedroom. He flops back against the bed and pulls off his pants. Is this really happening? I start to unbutton my shirt, but my fingers are too slow. Growing frustrated, I rip the last two buttons clean off when I pull my shirt apart like Superman .

Patrick chuckles and lays back against the bed, his underwear and pants resting next to him on the mattress. His cock, not yet hard, is so beautiful. Circumcised, thick, and darker than mine. My mouth waters. I need to taste it.

I crawl onto the bed, over him. Leaning forward, I kiss him—starting at the mouth, but working my way down his neck, chest, belly, and the soft inner parts of his hips. He moans and thrusts himself up against me; I’m driving him wild. Wrapping my hand around his hard shaft, I kiss the tip of his cock, my lips moistened by precum as I pull away.

I lick my lips. “Delicious,” I say in breathy tones.

“I have condoms in the nightstand,” Patrick says, pointing to the drawer. “I need you inside me.”

Without a word, I get up and pull open the drawer and take out a condom. Using my teeth and one hand, I tear the metallic packet open and slide the rubber into place.

My cell phone rings, and I stop dead in my tracks. It’s my work phone, and I have to answer it. Patrick’s eyes search mine for answers. Why am I not fucking him? What could be so important that I couldn’t finish before answering my damn phone?

“I’m so sorry,” I say, pulling the phone from my pocket. “It’s the station, and I’ve already missed a dozen texts from my partner.”

Patrick sits up at the side of the bed. “Oh, man. Better get it then.”

“Hello?” I answer.

“You’d better get down to the station; there’s been a development,” my partner says. “They’ve made an arrest.”

“In the murder case?”

“Yup, and the boss is on his way. Be best if you got here before him. You know how he gets.”

“Absolutely,” I say and disconnect the call. I sit down next to Patrick. “I’m really sorry about this. I can’t imagine the night I’m giving up right now to go to work, but I don’t have a choice.”

“No worries,” Patrick says, rubbing his hand along my thigh until he reaches my cock. “This’ll be here next time.”

I smile. “It sure will.”

He gives me a peck on the cheek and stands, picking up my shirt and handing it to me. “Go save the world, Michael. Someone’s got to do it.”

I hug him. “Thank you for being so sweet. Can I call you soon?”

“You’d better,” Patrick says, but his eyes look sad to me. Almost like he doesn’t believe we’ll ever get this moment back.

Throwing my clothes on, I rush for the front door, turning back before I close it behind me. Patrick stands there in the hallway, naked from the waist down, the saddest expression etched across his face.

“I promise to call you soon,” I say and close the door.

This job has always treated me well, but at this very moment, I want to punch something.