Page 13 of Rocking the Receiver (Austin Troopers)
CHAPTER 13
SMILE
Rupert
“I’ll grab our duffels.” Nathan elegantly glides out of his seat and effortlessly unlatches the overhead compartment.
I watch him. Others do too, stopping in their tracks rather than drag their carry-ons—and themselves—off the plane. The corner of my lips quirks up. I inwardly grin.
Before this trip, I never paid attention to the effect that my friend has on people. Strangers, no matter their gender, often do a double take. His insane confidence. His cocky attitude. His outstanding beauty. But Sally’s attraction to him was of another nature, and after spending four days joined at the hip, I can understand the appeal. He’s respectful, caring, and a good listener. The funny thing is that he says the same about me.
“We better get moving.” He hands me my spanking new leather bag that he bought me for this unfortunate trip; it’s identical to his black one except that mine is a caramel color that he claims matches my hair.
Riiight …
I do appreciate the gift, though. In return, I wrote a song about the intensely heartbreaking experience we shared. Days filled with bottomless grief and tears that show in the dark circles under our eyes.
“I would have suggested hitting a diner for a late dinner, but I have plans.” I shrug. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, Rupert. I’m beat and need to catch up on my beauty sleep anyway.”
We chuckle at that. Bags slung over our shoulders, we nod at each other. This is it. His hand firmly grips my shoulder. We walk side by side, our breathing and stride unintentionally in sync. Just as it was when we practiced the aptly named ‘Art of Breathing,’ during these excruciatingly difficult days.
Soon enough, the sliding doors of LaGuardia Airport open to our new reality. One where Sally doesn’t exist. One where Nathan suggested we take a breather from each other until further notice. One where Elliot rearranged his priorities to be here for me.
Now that he’s done with finals and doesn’t have pressing football affairs, he is able to visit for a few days. As much as I hate the circumstances that brought him back to New York, I couldn’t be more relieved.
My mouth goes dry and my pulse races at the sight of him. Solid frame. Broad shoulders. Perfect height. Could he have grown taller since I saw him about three weeks ago? My hungry dick thickens inside my dark blue jeans. My skin tickles deliciously. I embrace it; and here I thought Sally’s death rendered me immune to positive emotions. I suck in a strangled breath.
This man is going to be the death of me…
The uncharacteristic timid grin on Elliot’s face betrays his nerves at Nathan’s presence. Within seconds, his collected expression morphs. Darkened eyes. Flushed face. Tapping foot. At first, I mistake it for impatience due to lust, until he’s glaring at the spot where Nathan’s hand is attached to my shoulder.
Jealous, much? All in all, I find it endearing, and some twisted part of my fragile ego delights at his possessiveness. Does he really think Nathan’s gesture is fueled by anything other than consolation?
I’ll take all the support I can get lately. That’s why Elliot’s plan pleases me to no end. Fathoming that I couldn’t stand to return to my place right after burying Sally, he suggested what he referred to as a comforting bubble to pause the outside world for an extended weekend. Hence, he got here ahead of me, settled in a hotel of his choosing, and went sightseeing while waiting for me to arrive.
I’m amazed at how considerate he is and simultaneously flattered by his territoriality. But I’m not an asshole, mind you. I don’t play games with Elliot. He is here. I want him here.
My head swivels, and I stare at Nathan’s friendly hand, then his gaze meets mine. Without a word, he places his hand in his dark pants pocket and follows my lead.
A warm glow spreads across my face as I greet Elliot and introduce them. “Thanks for picking me up, Elliot. This is my friend, Nathan Price.” I gesture towards Nathan. “Nathan, this is my…” The words get stuck in my mouth for a beat. Blinking, I eventually add in a more determined voice. “Elliot.” Yeah, he is my Elliot … Mine… I cough lightly. “This is Elliot Lefevre.” My heart thumps so violently, it resonates in my ears. “My?—”
Before I am able to continue, Nathan glances at me, extends his hand for Elliot to shake, and supplies in a playful yet unfazed tone, “Boyfriend, I suppose.”
Elliot’s lips part to counter him, no doubt, but I beat him to the punch. This time, there’s no stutter or pause when I reply, heat coursing through my body. Not numb, then. “Yes, he is.”
I don’t recall sharing my sexual orientation with Nathan, but we shared a few drunken evenings with Sally where I might have given it away. Oh, well, maybe my attraction to Elliot isn’t as well hidden as I thought. But I meant what I told Elliot: Why hide things from Nathan, even if his assumption is slightly far-fetched?
With that, my green gaze captures his as I reach his side and intertwine my fingers with his for a split second. I shiver at the contact, and some more when he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue. His cheeks stay rosy, which is adorable along with his freckles. I’m about to release his hand when he tightens his hold. I don’t pull away. After all, I just claimed him as mine… I might as well enjoy the thrill of his touch. All of this doesn’t help with my semi, so I tuck my free hand in my pocket and conceal it as best as I can.
Come what may.
“Nice to meet you, Nathan. I’ve heard so much about you.” Does Elliot’s voice sound more gravelly than I remember? It does something X-rated to my brain. My fingers crook around his as his other hand releases Nathan’s. “You’ve got to teach me some of your breathing techniques one of these days. Maybe they’ll help to restrain my impulse to smack a couple of my brainless teammates.” Reminded of Elliot’s situation with Davis and his equally foul-mouthed linebacker buddy, my heart tightens.
“Feel free to attend any of my seminars, but I’m afraid none are scheduled in the near future because I have more pressing deadlines… Don’t worry, though, your man is fully capable of teaching you.”
I sure am… Well, if I can finally have my wicked way with Elliot, his education would cover so much more than a typical class… More like moaning, whimpering, and grunting.
All in due time…
But I ache for this man.
So much.
Elliot
THE LONG UBER RIDE to the hotel is eerily quiet, but his hand remains locked in mine. I take shallow breaths as the warmth radiating from the contact travels across my skin.
His boyfriend … I’m doing my best to adjust to the white lie. Why did he do that? Who cares? It did funny things to my insides and boosted my bruised ego. Yup, my ego’s been on an emotional rollercoaster since the engagement party two years ago. Bruised by his initial rejection… until he initiated a welcome back kiss and then some. Thanksgiving was a missed opportunity; too bad. For once, I command my mojo to behave; I’ll be the shoulder Rupert needs to lean on and will provide solace to my grieving boyfriend . Period. The bags under his eyes are all the evidence I need. Truth be told, I’m at a loss when it comes to him. I thought I knew what I wanted from him, but he’s been sending mixed signals, which make me reconsider everything. Today, I should proceed with caution, even though I ache for him. This isn’t about me; he’s in bad shape.
I inwardly congratulate myself for deciding on this quiet, upscale hotel—that he insisted paying for. The Upper East Side doesn’t hold any memories of Sally.
“I’ve missed you, Elliot,” Rupert utters as we cross the threshold, hand in hand, his front glued to my back. His breath caresses the back of my neck.
When the door closes behind us, he whirls me around and presses my back against the nearest wall. The noise I make is covered by the thump of his weekender on the floor.
His hand cradles my face. My breath hitches. Next thing I know, I yelp as he slants our mouths together, seeking entrance. I growl.
Frozen by his initiative, my arms don’t budge, stuck on the side of my body, as if this wasn’t the all-clear first I’ve been waiting for. My heart is pounding nonetheless. One of his hands reaches into my hair and gently pulls on it. The other unzips my winter coat before settling on my lower back. Wiggling, I don’t resist his sweet assault.
So much for having good intentions and putting my hormones on hold. If this is what he needs, I’m all for it.
Swapping spit, we smile into the molten kiss. The delicious friction of our tongues paired with his enticing ministrations are a perfect appetizer. I groan. Devouring his mouth, I ignore my throbbing semi. I melt into him, but he wrenches his lips from mine.
His pupils are as dilated as mine must be. “I’ve missed this, so fucking much,” he pants. We lock eyes. His hand skids down to my ass and squeezes. Finally, my hands are everywhere. “I’ve missed us, babe.” My pulse trips on itself. Boyfriend? Babe? What’s next? “I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t.” He gasps. “I want to feel alive again.” His plea guts me, but it’s delivered with such hunger that I quickly recover. “Only you have the power to do that.” Holy shit! My heart swells with pride. “If you’re still on board, that is.”
“Hell, yeah!” As if I’d ever say no to that. I should probably tell him that he isn’t quite himself, and we should wait. But I’m a selfish bastard. Instead, my lips steal a sloppy kiss to seal the deal, and I blindly moon-walk towards the bed.
Oh, so slowly, we shed each other’s clothing with each step, lip-locked, only stopping to clumsily toe off our shoes. Skin grazing. Horniness skyrocketing. Expectations soaring.
The back of my calves hit the edge of the bed when we’re down to our skivvies. I plop down on the bed without further ado and lean on my elbow. My gaze takes a slow perusal over his pale freckled skin. There are so many. Everywhere. And taut muscles I yearn to lick. My mouth waters at the view. “Oh, God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“Right back at you.” He pulls on his covered erection, eliciting loads of wicked ideas. “How have I waited so long?” At once, he pauses, then raises his index finger. “Hold that thought, I’ll be right back.” My brows furrow. WTF? He can’t be having second thoughts, can he?
Checking out how perfectly his boxer briefs showcase his assets, I hear his warning loud and clear. “Don’t you dare move.” As if…
Instead, I watch him disappear into the entryway. A latch and zipper noises follow. Seconds later, heavy lidded eyes gauge my reaction when he tosses a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms on the mattress. “Supplies,” he unnecessarily blurts out as I shiver in anticipation, stealing a glance at the ridge of his impressive erection.
This is real , I remind myself, my clogged throat finally able to relax and swallow. I’ve fantasized about him. I’ve dreamed of seeing his dick. I’ve jacked off to the thought of pounding into him.
Rupert must be a fucking mind reader: He strips, exposing his glorious nakedness, and strokes himself for good measure. As if he wasn’t hard enough already. Red hot!
I curl my index finger to coax him to join me on the bed while I hastily ditch my undies. “You really thought this through!” My dick is already leaking precum. Damn, now is not the time to blow my load.
He pounces on the bed, whispering, “I like to come… prepared.” His tall figure covers mine. His enticing familiar scent overwhelms me. His mouth peppers me with open-mouth kisses, tormenting my nipples with his teeth.
“I’ve done my homework, you know.” My cockiness conceals a slight lingering doubt. “Can’t mess up, right?” I ask myself aloud, then shake my head. “Nah, shouldn’t have a problem making you come.” His zealous mouth molds against mine for another quick taste.
“Good. Look, I trust you, Elliot…” Hand snatching our erect cocks, he tugs on them, licking his appetizing lips. “I’m sorry, though… I aimed to take good care of you and go slow for your first time … But I’m… you… I want you too much…” His voice comes out ragged. “I will let you do whatever you want to do to me later.” With that, he coasts down my body, engulfs my length, and gives it a good suck.
Holy shit!
With an audible grunt, I arch my back so he’ll take more of me. The tip of his tongue circles the tip of my cock. He releases me with a pop before switching places with me. “Just speak up if you need direction at any time.” I kneel between his spread legs and watch him position himself. Soles on the mattress, he adds a pillow behind the small of his back to grant me better access. “I’m all yours. Get that gorgeous cock of yours inside me.”
Kissing, licking, nibbling, I comply after squirting a generous amount of lube on my fingers. Using one at a time, I work him over, rather impatiently since I can barely manage to control my urges.
“So good… Yeah, right there…” He writhes under me, proving that I’ve hit that special spot. The one every gay guy raves about. The one I haven’t been acquainted with, so far. The one he will hopefully explore with me.
Way back, I did admit my extremely limited experience without disclosing that I was reserving most of my firsts for my dream guy.
Enthralled, I watch my three fingers go in and out of him, loving how he shamelessly fucks them. “Mmm…” he grumbles.
“You’re so fucking tight... I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t. Fuck me before I come all over my stomach, babe.” The term of endearment twists my stupid heart. I revel in his choked voice that sounds more urgent than cajoling. “I want the burn… Feel you for hours once we’re done. I want you so bloody bad.” Oh, his Britishness is showing, interesting. His unfocused eyes and ruddy cheeks show that he’s already too far gone to put up much resistance anyway.
Who am I to deny him? This is empowering.
Taking a big breath, I suit up, lube up and kneel in front of him, gripping my aching cock. Anal was always the real test. I’ve heard some guys don’t enjoy it at all and stick to other activities that I can’t wait to discover with him. I tease his entrance. I’m about to fuck Rupert Smith. My fantasy guy. My spank bank favorite. My boyfriend.
“Don’t hold back!”
I inhale deeply. Unable to comply with his demand, the head of my dick carefully enters him. I halt, allowing the insane sensation to sink in. Holy shit, this is beyond my wildest dreams, and we’re just getting started. I wasn’t nervous per se, more like expectant. Just like when I enter the field.
Digging my fingernails into his silky skin, I blink at him and gasp before I go any further. Rupert slightly rocks his hips towards me, and my whole body convulses. My thighs are quivering. My heart is hammering. My ego is bruised.
The most earth-shattering orgasm overtakes me, and I can’t help but cry out a strained, “Oh, meeerde !” A mixture of elicitation, surprise, and shame.
I didn’t milk the clock and came in two seconds flat.
WTF?