Page 11 of Reunion
Cole
I’d been drunk last night, but not as drunk as I’d probably seemed to Dane before signing off with him. Between our back-and-forth texts, I’d navigated right on over to Pornhub before I could overthink whether or not perving on his videos was sketchy. I’d already had one hand in my pants stroking myself while the other thumbed my good-night message to him. That part wasdefinitelysketchy, but I couldn’t help myself, and damn if the videos hadn’t been hot.
I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to tell the guy in them was Dane if Shay hadn’t told me; the videos weren’t the best quality. Naked from the waist up and wearing a pair of tight black pants, he was prowling elegance embodied as he circled a guy kneeling on all fours atop some kind of contraption that shackled both his ankles and wrists in place. Dane was younger for sure, but I couldn’t get a sense of how much younger due to the graininess of the picture. There were maybe a dozen short scenes featuring both women and men, though the ones with women tended to be far less sexual in nature.
In the one I’d fixated on, Dane caressed the other man’s asscheeks, kneading them affectionately, then delivered a resounding open-handed smack that made the guy’s back arch sharply as he cried out.
I didn’t even make it halfway through the scene before I blew my load. So naturally that meant I needed to watch it again. I finally passed out after a second whimper-inducing orgasm left me shaky and drained.
Now, trying to tame a threatening boner, I forced my gaze away from Dane where he stood next to Shay as her best man, and homed in on my brother. He wasn’t necessarily the better option, either. The whole damn wedding ceremony was proving to be an emotional minefield; if I wasn’t about to tent my pants, I was fighting getting misty-eyed over my brother’s heartfelt vows. Shay was openly crying, and fuck me if I dared to look toward the front row where my parents were sitting, because if I witnessed my father tearing up, I’d really lose it. Some people were reflexive pukers; I was a reflexive crier.
I blinked rapidly as Shay delivered a soppy-sweet promise to Aaron about choosing him for eternity. On any other occasion, I might’ve rolled my eyes at the sappiness, but the way they were staring at each other so besotted and sincere formed a canyon in my gut, filled only with vague emptiness and a kind of freewheeling desire that intensified as I glanced back at Dane. His freshly shaved jaw was set, and his attention upon my brother and Shay was deeply fond. When his gaze snagged on mine, warmth spread through me at the glimmer in his eyes I read first as humor, then as slightly mischievous.
Images from the video flooded the back of my mind anew: the perfectly-defined muscles of Dane’s back and bicep rippling as he caned the other man into a squirming, sobbing mess. The sexy-as-hell moans, cries, and sharp smacks. And Dane’s voice. Jesus. He wasn’t as cold or distant as I’d assumed Doms were—no doubt enhanced by plenty of other videos I’d watched. And they’d gotten me hard, too. But Dane’s easygoing warmth in the scene, the way he’d caressed the guy, kissed him, how he spoke in tones that alternated between commanding and soothing, made me all the more curious what he’d be like in the bedroom with someone like me.
Then there was the matter of the “gift” that had been waiting for me at the front desk this morning. The hotel clerk had called me over as I headed through the lobby and presented me with a red-ribbon wrapped nylon bag that made my breath catch in my chest. The tag read, “Didn’t want you to feel left out. If you’d like to know how to use them, just ask.” I’d popped a boner immediately, visualizing the roguish expression I imagined must have been on Dane’s face when he delivered them.
But I hadn’t gathered enough courage to bring it up yet.
When we’d walked down the aisle together earlier, he’d laid his hand over the top of my forearm and I’d basked in the warmth and weight of it, the casual confidence of his touch and how natural it had felt. The close proximity reminded me of when we’d been tight in high school, before he’d come out and things had changed. Or, more accurately, before I’d gotten weird.
Another twinge of regret passed through my chest, and I took a deep breath, pushing it aside when the ceremony finished. Dane extended his arm for me as the wedding party began to file down the aisle.
“Do you need my handkerchief?” he asked sotto voce as we walked.
“I’m not crying, my tear ducts are just…no.”
“It was a moving ceremony.” He cut another look my way that I didn’t dare acknowledge, certain his expression was filled with a tiny bit of concern, but mostly humor. “Sure you don’t want that handkerchief?”
“The pollen count is really high today.” I sniffed imperiously.
“It’s a very soft handkerchief. Highly absorbent.”
“Do you remember that time I punched you?”
“No.” I caught Dane’s frown as he seemed to search his memory. “When did that happen?”
“Soon if you don’t quit offering me your stupid handkerchief.” But dammit if the smile quirking the corners of his mouth didn’t cue one of my own. “I’ve got it under control now,” I promised. “I’m just a little hungover, which makes my emotions hyperactive. I’ve also got a wicked headache.”
“A wet handkerchief also makes a wonderful cold compress. Just lay it across your brow, close your eyes—”
Conveniently outside the ballroom now and away from the eyes of wedding guests, I punched him in the arm, and then we both started laughing like idiots until the wedding planner scowled at us and herded us toward the lobby doors.
There were pictures to be taken next, in what seemed like a thousand combinations before we were released to the reception where the other wedding guests had already found the bar and hors d’oeuvres. I got caged in by relatives for an eon, updating them on my job, the fact thatno, I didn’t have any children or a serious relationship,yesI enjoyed my work very much, and how were their kids, dogs, cats, work life?
Dane circulated through my periphery, his charming smiles and gestures magnetic. Now at the bar, now talking with Shay, now laughing with Chase. I narrowed my eyes that time and then blinked the stab of unwarranted jealousy away.
Finally, I found myself with a third sea breeze in my hand and no one in front of me. After dropping my glass at a table, I made my way onto the dance floor and bumped hips with Shay to the beat of a Prince song.
Shay wrapped her arms around me. “You’re not really mad that you didn’t get a gift bag, are you?”
“I used my own tears as lube when I jacked off last night. With myhand, by the way, since I had no toys and am not a total skeeze.”
She swatted me. “Chase has been giving you the hard-core eye all afternoon. He’s not the only one, either. Maybe there’s more in store for you tonight than a solo hand job.”
I considered her brow waggle skeptically. “Are you really that interested in my love life?”
“If you’re not the one getting married and you’re single, isn’t a weekend lay half the fun of a wedding?”