Page 63 of My Pucking Crush

Max

“ I talian okay?” I ask Luca, who I’ve convinced we needed to stop for dinner. “I’m famished. This stretch of the North Fork has some really great family-owned restaurants. Quaint.”

“Fine,” he answers sharply.

I’ve been around this guy long enough now to know spur-of-the-moment stops throw him into a tailspin. When the season is over, if for some reason I want to make a go of this with Luca — Daniil — whoever the hell he is, this is a side of him I have to accept.

The dangerous man who will always consider first how to keep me safe. Only, I won’t be in an enemy’s scope forever. I hope he learns to dial his grumpy setting way down.

We stop to eat, neither of saying much. In fact, Luca doesn’t say anything at all. Just stares at me. Like he’s waiting for me to say something.

Honestly, my head is still messed up. I’m processing how my old friends reacted to Oliver being gay. The disgust in their eyes leveled me out. I know there are haters, but I hoped that close friends would accept you no matter what.

Sure, it’s na?ve to think they still consider me a close friend. But Oliver? Fury storms through me as I stab a meatball.

“Problem?” Luca says, breaking the awkward silence.

“Nope.”

Outside the restaurant window, a bright light flashes, momentarily illuminating the dimly lit restaurant. A collective gasp rings out. Luca hops out of his seat ready to throw himself on top of me, when a crack of thunder rattles the place.

The sonic-like boom is followed by a whoosh of heavy rain, and the windows look like we’re in a car wash.

“Aw, fuck,” I say and drag out my phone.

Luca’s hand sits in his suit jacket, clutched around his piece no doubt. “What?”

“These roads flood. We’ll miss our ferry to the south shore.”

“Then how do we get down there?” He sits back down.

I forget that he doesn’t know the topography of Eastern Long Island. The easiest way to get from the North Fork to the South Fork is through Shelter Island, via two short ferry rides. But with this weather and the likelihood that the roads to the ferries are flooded, services will be suspended.

“We have to drive back around.” And not until the rain stops.

“No problem.” He sips a glass of club soda. “Where you go, I go.”

His cold voice draws my stare. The lines in his face, hardened from a harsh life, down to the hand on the table, balled into a fist, is stressing me out. After a quick glance around, I reach out to hold his hand.

Luca stops drinking, his eyes shooting to my fingers as I attempt to make the contact I need so badly from him.

“Do you have a problem with this?” I ask him, feeling him pulling away.

“Are we on a date?”

“Maybe.” I bark a laugh. “We’re having dinner. We’re fucking.”

“Careful,” he warns me.

I think about getting caught versus coming out. Admitting my sexuality versus explaining it. Telling people to mind their fucking business versus holding a press conference to save my reputation.

“Max Ryan?” someone says my name.

I yank my hand from Luca’s so fast that his wrist hits the table, his chunky watch clanging to the wood surface. Our eyes meet and he’s furious.

It’s so terrifying, I turn away to address the complete stranger who might have a gun and wants to shoot me. “Yeah?”

“I just want to say good luck on Friday against Richmond.” The man smiles while speaking, but his eyes land on Luca’s open and empty hand still resting on the table. “I grew up in Mystic. Always been a Crushers fan.”

Did he see us holding hands? Shivers run down my spine, but I hold it together. I stand up, and like most times I’m faced with a fan, I tower over the guy. “Thank you.”

When I go to shake the guy’s hand, he oddly just looks down at it. I quickly shove it in my pocket. “Do you want an autograph or a selfie?”

The man rocks from side to side. “Not much of a selfie guy. But I’ll take an autograph.”

I don’t keep notepads on me. “Um, having anything you want me to sign?”

“Nah.” He lifts his hand to give me a masculine knock on the shoulder but looks down at Luca, who’s not another player, or someone else who’s famous. Shit, it does look like we’re on a date. A secret one. My attack wasn’t made public. No one knows he’s my bodyguard. “Don’t worry about it, man. Just beat Richmond.” The guy strolls away .

I sit down and close my eyes before looking at Luca. “Look, I’m sorry. That was—”

“Save it,” he cuts me off.

“You don’t understand,” I say and regret it because it’s the stupidest fucking thing I can say. Of course he understands.

I’m learning that being in a relationship with another guy means I have to temper my emotions. Luca takes my dick, but he’s no beta male. “I mean... It would be unfair to the team if I—”

“It’s fine , Max. I don’t want to get fired. One day I might want to work back in the real world and I don’t need a client-fucking incident on my record.”

I wait a beat for him to calm down before changing the subject.

“How’s Samara?” I ask, realizing he hasn’t mentioned her.

Luca’s eyes raise to mine, and the prolonged silence guts me. “ She’s fine,” he finally says, but it rings of something untrue.

Did something happen to his sister that he’s not telling me? Luca doesn’t say much else for the rest of the meal. A meal I pay for, along with everything else. For everyone. But I don’t mind paying for Luca. My generosity for him is pure.

We’re not chased away from the table after the dinner rush slowed due to the weather. A baseball game plays on a TV over the bar, and I relax watching a sport I have absolutely nothing emotionally invested in.

The rain stops, and we leave. The dark roads heading back west on the narrow state highway that lead to the South Shore has Luca crawling along. It’s close to freaking midnight by the time we reach my house in East Hampton.

My block is quiet, all houses dark except for one. A neighbor I haven’t met has their lights on with a few cars in the driveway. The houses back up to the beach off a winding road with no sidewalks. The front of the house is blocked by a row of twelve-foot skinny Emerald Green trees.

Luca’s silence is wrecking me. Maybe the way my father glared at him twice now caught him off guard. My heart climbs into my throat. Christ, he saw the abuse I grew up with. Came face to face with the man who sent me off to be brutalized and didn’t care what would happen to me. My fucked-up past is all too real. And he’s...dumping me. Now. Tonight.

Shit, why does that hurt?

At least right now, he can’t leave me. He’s hired to stay on my ass. Oh God, that’s another sacrifice he’s making. He’s a top, but he’s letting me have that control.

Holy fuck, I have real feelings for the man. Deep and pure. My heart faintly recognizes the feeling. I had more than a guy crush on Jake. And it was more than fooling around.

I thought I was in love with Jake. His betrayal wrecked me. I still remember the constant pain in my chest. That same ache is tearing down the walls I put around my heart when it comes to Luca.

I’ve been lost in my thoughts and forgot to tell him to park in the garage where we could have entered directly into the kitchen. He already unloaded our bags and is carrying them up the walkway of large shale stepping stones that leads to the front door.

I’ll move the car later. After we fuck. I need him. I need to be inside him, connect with him.

Fishing my phone from my pocket, I unlock the door with the security app my contractor installed for me.

When the click sounds, Luca yanks around. “This house is all electronic? ”

“Yeah. I did it in case I wanted to stay here and didn’t have a key.”

“I’m gonna need to see that app and secure your passwords.”

“No one knows about this house. You need to loosen up,” I say and open the door.

I want to push him against the door and jerk him off right here, breathing in the ocean air.

“ I need to check out this place first,” Luca bristles, stepping ahead of me. He forces me to stop with a stiff vibe that screams he doesn’t want to be touched.

“I’ll take my bag.” My hand brushes his to take my duffle—carrying my luggage for me is going too far.

He pulls away and drops my bag on the floor.

“Is something wrong?” I finally ask.

He can’t be mad about the guy in the restaurant who saw us holding hands. I’ve been nothing but consistent about my need to keep what we have a secret. I exhale, though, the fight in me draining. It’s been a long day and we didn’t get much sleep last night.

I probably exhausted his cheery protection mode for one day. First the shit show with my parents, the wake service with more than one hundred people Luca doesn’t know, then the bar with my old friends.

Luca ignores me as he surveils the house. He goes room to room, switching on lights, and opening closets, swinging them with a little more force, and slamming them shut.

I rack my brain about what can be wrong. That conversation with Cory, Kieth, and Paul rings back to me, how they shitted on Oliver and other gays. Luca had to have overheard them.

But he’s my age. That kind of bigotry isn’t anything new. It didn’t faze me. I’ve been dealing with that for years in professional sport .

College was rough, too. Lots of slurs and shaming. For that reason, I only dated women for four years, believing Jake and I were a ridiculous phase. With the right motivation, I responded sexually to girls, but it felt empty. My heart never beat for any woman the way it beats for...Luca.

Only Luca.

He has to understand, I’m not out. I wasn’t going to fucking stick my neck out for a guy I haven’t seen in years. I can’t risk being labeled gay and then have to answer for it, with either a denial or an immature ‘outing.’

“Huh?” I say, lost in my head again.

“I said, give me your phone please,” Luca asks calmly.

Our eyes locked, I hand it to him. He walks away, tapping different screens. I know he’s changing my passwords, but I’m too tired to argue.

“It’s been a long day.” I rub my forehead. “Come on, my bedroom is this way.”

“Your bedroom?” He emphasizes the possessiveness.

“What’s wrong with you? Your eyes are wild. There’s no one here.” I stop short and spin around at the foot of the stairs. “You’ve been sleeping in my bed in Stamford. If you don’t—”

“I want that,” he says, softening. “In fact, I have to have you right now.” He shrugs out of his suit jacket and starts loosening his tie.

I drop my bag and consider how hot it would be to just fuck him on my sofa, the bare windows exposing us. That’s a hollow fantasy, though. My trees wrap around the house on three sides. And only if someone came up on my back deck would they see me.

Now if we went outside.. .

My cock thickens at the idea of fucking Luca in the hot tub. “I have an idea.”

After kicking off my shoes and peeling layers of clothes when I walk, I shove open the sliders to the deck. I pay a maintenance company to send someone once a week to keep the property neat and chlorinate the hot tub. There’s nothing worse than needing a good, hot soaking and lifting the cover to find green slime waiting.

I glance to the left at the occupied house I noticed earlier. The design is nothing like mine, just on the same size lot with the same privacy trees. But his house is a little longer, his deck shorter.

His window shades are down, but I detect several bodies behind them. Damn, I hope he’s not having a party with stargazers who will come out to look up at the sky and then see me sucking Luca’s dick.

Realizing it’s rather late and maybe my neighbor will be calling it a night soon, I walk with no shame naked on my deck toward the hot tub. Unsnapping the canvas tarp reveals crystal clear water. I flip on the switch that heats the water with powerful jets. Those feel great on my cock and my asshole.

“That hot tub looks amazing,” Luca says, coming up behind me, his hands roaming up and down my back.

I’m perplexed at his sudden change in attitude, but growling, he yanks me down for a kiss, and it’s the most fevered I’ve ever felt from him. Even if it feels angry. He’s going to punish me. Maybe fuck my mouth the way we did at Club Dare.

Damn, I liked that. Especially since he’s going to be rough with me. I’m moody, like he said.

We’re a wreck of messy kisses, teeth gnashing, clothes stripped away, tweaking nipples, and grabbing cocks. Fuck, I like this man so much. His hands all over me signals he’s mine just as much as I am his. I love how he shows no hesitancy of being nude out on my deck. God, I can’t wait to get my mouth around his cock.

Luca dips a toe into the hot tub. “Warm as fuck.”

“Feels good, right?” I say, getting in on the opposite side.

The humming spa jets and the gentle fragrance of water softener invigorate me. I don’t give Luca time to acclimate to the bubbles, or drift toward me. I claw at him until we’re chest to chest, my hand immediately closing around his thick cock. It hardens instantly in my water-slickened hand.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he moans. “But I need to blow you, Max.”

Puts a dent in my plan, but I never turn down a blowie. I kiss him again and sit my ass up on the edge. It’s late Spring and the chill in the air cools my heated skin, especially my ass cheeks.

Luca closes his mouth around my cock, and I’m close already. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, my hot, dirty bodyguard.”

I’m not going to let him finish, but I want him to bring me to the edge so I can shove my cock in his ass and brutally fuck him. Lose control.

“Yeah. Christ, Luca, that’s...” The words die in my throat, when teeth clamp down on my dick. “Ouch, you asshole .”

“Not tonight.” Luca hops out of the hot tub and stomps toward the patio door.

“Fuck, what’s wrong?” I glance around, thinking he’s gotten some kind of danger signal and is getting his gun to blow someone’s head off.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” he says, angrily.

Uh oh...

He looks like he might blow my head off.

I stand up, my hard cock bobbing. “What the hell? ”

“You really don’t know,” he bites out with a loud voice.

“We should have this conversation inside.”

When I take a step toward him, he holds up his hand blocking the door. “You let your so-called friends shit on the gay guy. You let some stranger who didn’t even want your autograph ruin an important moment for me.”

“Important?”

“To be with you in public. Feel like you’re mine and I’m yours. Without caring who saw.”

My throat swells with heat. “Seriously?”

Rage fires in his gray eyes. “Excuse me? Yes, I’m serious. You’re fucking gay, Max. Queer. Homosexual. Homo normative . It’s who you are.”

“I’m not denying that. I mean, I...”

“You should have stuck up for Oliver. Standing up for a gay friend doesn’t automatically mean you’re gay. You can just be the bigger, decent person who doesn’t want to see someone discriminated for who they fucking love.”

So, Luca had heard the conversation. Fuck, he makes it sounds so easy.

Shaking my head, I choke out, “Why didn’t you say something?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re glad I didn’t say something because you would have seen my knee meeting that guy’s nose then shoving my cock into his face while I come all over him.” His visceral passion stuns me.

“Look...”

“No. You look. Go take a walk, Max. I need a break from you.”

“Fine. Let me put my clothes on.”

He cocks his head. “I think not.”

My shocked eyes watch him stomp to my house and close the patio doors. “You’re not fucking serious, are you?”

He smiles, clicking the lock.

I frantically look around. Surely, I brought my phone out here. Nope. It’s in his hand and he’s waving it at me.

“Open this fucking door!” I yell, ready to say more but stop fearing I’ll get my neighbor’s attention. That’s not how I want to meet him.

These houses are insanely expensive, the guy could be a shark lawyer from Manhattan who likes to sue people for indecent exposure. I spin around, search for any loose cushions I may have left out to cover my cock while I figure out what to do.

Luca activates the shades inside the sliders, so I can’t see him. He’s fucking serious all right. I sit in the hot tub for a while, brooding over the fight until my skin prunes and I’m chilled. I knock on the door, but after a few minutes, it’s clear Luca isn’t going to answer.

Holy shit. Looks like I’m meeting my neighbor.

Please, don’t let it be a damn bachelorette party...