Chapter 3
3
“ T here are three types of baseball players: Those who watch it happen, those who make it happen, and those who wonder what happens.” —Tommy Lasorda
“How’d it go, Curtster?” Matt’s voice sounded really loud and awfully damn chipper at… fuck, what time was it, anyway?
I groaned and tried to shake the cobwebs from my head before asking him why the fuck he was calling so early.
“Dude, it’s… I don’t know. Babe, what time is it?”
I could Aaron’s voice in the background, yelling that it was time for lazy bones to get out of bed. I rolled my eyes. I felt as though I’d just fallen asleep. I yawned loudly and shifted to sit up in my bed.
“Am I on speakerphone? And are you seriously calling me at the crack of dawn?”
“Yes, you’re on speaker. Matty’s driving, and you know he’s a freaking tyrant. He won’t let me drive my own car. Anyway, I want to hear everything too! So, don’t be shy and don’t worry about the time. It will take us at least another forty minutes to get to Baltimore, honey.”
“You’re not driving because we want to get to your parents’ house in one piece, and Curt”—Matt’s voice took on a different tone as he switched from speaking to his lover to hassling me—“we’re calling because… well, really because Aar insisted. Ow! But I’m curious too. How was it?”
“Details, please!” Aaron yelled.
I had to laugh as I glanced at my watch. It was nine o’clock, and my system was yearning for a caffeine fix. I grudgingly got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, figuring this should be a relatively quick conversation because they wanted to know about Paul… and there was nothing to tell. It was what happened later with Jack that had me wondering if I’d dreamed up the whole second half of my evening. I left Paul without so much as a peck on the cheek only to head over to Jack’s bar and wind up grinding and making out with him like a teenager. Again. It was reminiscent of the night of Jay and Peter’s wedding. No way was I sharing that.
“Sorry, guys. Nothing much to tell. It was a nice dinner?—”
“The restaurant is fabulous, isn’t it?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, it was really nice.”
“Ugh. He said that word again. Curt! What did you talk about? Where did you go after? Your place or his? Gawd, I hope you at least cleaned a little before you invited him to your apartment.”
I heard Matt chuckling in the background as Aaron wound himself up over nothing. I muted the call while I finished up in the bathroom, and then made my way to my kitchen with my cell phone perched on my shoulder. I took a quick stock of my surroundings to see if my pad needed a little tidying. I winced at the dirty dishes and takeout boxes on the coffee table, sitting next to a pile of unopened mail.
Shit. Aaron was right. Thankfully, I lived alone and didn’t have to worry about bumming anyone else out with my clutter. I had never been particular about messes, but I had recently fallen behind in my attention to basic grunge. It was a strange personality quirk, I supposed. I hated chaos in my daily life. I was obsessed with deadlines, timing, and work commitments, but I was not a neat freak.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t invite him over. We had dinner, walked to a jazz bar close by, and then back to our cars. The end. So let me make my coffee while you boys get back to your drive to suburbia. What’s the occasion, by the way? Isn’t this kinda early in the day for a parental visit?”
I grabbed one of last remaining clean mugs and leaned against the counter, waiting for my coffee to brew. In my head I was already thinking about spending the day at the ballpark with Jack. Is he going to come upstairs? Fuck, I hope so. I really should clean. Try to get some work done too. Aaron’s exasperated tone interrupted my internal list-making.
“It’s my mom’s birthday. She wants us all to go to church together and then have lunch back at the house.” Wow. A lot had changed over the past couple of years in Matt’s world. He and Aaron had moved in together a year after they became an “official” couple, and, well, he seemed perfectly fine tagging along to family events with his man. They really were family to each other now.
Aaron couldn’t let my nonevent night with Paul go, however. “That’s it? Did you kiss him at least? Did he kiss you?”
“Aaron,” Matt and I chided him in stereo.
“ What? Okay, fine! I’ll stop. Ugh! You are a difficult customer. You do think he’s hot, right?”
I rolled my eyes though no one was there to witness. “Yes, Aaron. He’s good-looking. He has a sexy voice, he?—”
“Finally! Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“That’s all, though. Let me go so I can get some work done before Jack gets here and—” Shit! The words were out of my mouth before I realized what I’d said. I waited one second… two….
“Holy fuck! Jack? Oh my God! What? Where are…?” Aaron’s excited voice made me smile even though I was pissed at myself for saying anything.
“Babe, leave him alone. Let me talk. Okay?” Matt chuckled.
“You never ask the right questions!” Aaron complained. I could just picture him crossing his arms over his chest like a pouting kid.
“Hey, guys? I’m still here and I…. Look, it’s no big deal. Jack knows I like baseball and he invited me to a Nationals game today. I have a lot to do before he gets here, though, so I’m hanging up. Thanks for the wake-up call!” I ended the call quickly and changed the setting to Silent, knowing Aaron would call back immediately. I’d deal with my nosey friends later. For now I had a couple weeks’ worth of household crap ranging from laundry, dishes, and a lack of groceries to deal with and only a few hours ’til Jack arrived. I ran my hand over my stubbled jaw and wondered where to begin.
By twelve thirty I was showered, dressed, ready, and waiting outside my building. I’d been keyed up all morning, anticipating my day with Jack. I felt a little more relaxed after a trip to the gym, but I was still nervous. I wondered if I should have suggested we meet at the park. Or maybe I should have insisted on picking him up so I wouldn’t be forced to ride on the back of his Harley. Which opened a different can of worms, so to speak… no one was forcing me to do anything, so what was with me? Was I suddenly a fan of motorcycles and tattoos? I smiled at the thought, which should have alarmed me, but didn’t.
I heard his bike before I saw him. My first glimpse of Jack driving down my block on his sleek black-and-chrome bike, wearing a leather jacket and dark aviator glasses, made my mouth water. He looked like a model from a magazine advertising… I don’t know… something cool, hip, trendy, and yes, sexy. He certainly didn’t look like the kind of guy who picked up men like me. I had an urge to look over my shoulder like I did at the wedding to see if this was real or if there was some hot, edgy-looking dude standing nearby. Jack was in front of me before I had a chance.
“Guess what I brought you?” he said by way of greeting. The smirky, lopsided grin made me think it could be anything from an apple to a dildo.
“No idea. A dildo?” I blushed furiously, surprised I’d said it out loud.
Jack laughed appreciatively and turned off the engine as he stepped around to the back of his Harley. He held a second helmet and gave me a goofy, chagrined look, shaking his head slowly.
“Sorry, honey. I wish I’d known. I certainly would have brought my best ten-inch play toy to share. Next time.” He held the helmet level with my head, indicating I should walk toward him so he could do the honors. I rolled my eyes but complied.
Jack smelled heavenly. A delicious combination of leather, cologne, mint, and a hint of tobacco. I quelled the urge to sniff him while he took his sweet time fastening the strap under my chin.
“Are you done yet? Are you sure it’s the right size? I can drive, you know. In fact, I insist. You got the tickets. Let me do the rest.”
Jack quirked his eyebrows and cupped my chin between his thumb and forefinger before he leaned down to gently kiss my lips. He pulled away and walked back to his bike.
“Let’s go, hotshot. Game starts in an hour.”
I gulped and tugged at the strap around my neck, sending up a quick prayer that I’d manage to get behind Jack without falling on my ass. I made a concerted effort not to think too hard about what compelled me get on his bike without argument. For the moment and for a reason I couldn’t quite define, I was where I wanted to be.
There is a majestic quality to baseball, which is particularly evident when you attend a stadium game. From the moment I cleared the colonnade area and emerged to take my place next to Jack in the sea of spectators, I was transfixed by the beauty of that perfect diamond and lush green grass below. It’s always been like that for me. It didn’t matter that neither of the teams playing were ones I followed. I knew I’d enjoy myself because I loved the sport.
But clearly not as much as Jack.
The guy was obviously in his element. He took his helmet off in the parking lot and replaced it with a Nationals baseball cap.
“What? I’m rooting for the home team.” He shrugged nonchalantly at the smirk I did a poor job of hiding.
I found his enthusiasm really fucking cute. And cute was certainly not an adjective I would have ever thought to use to describe Jack. He was manly, muscular, tough with a mischievous sense of humor. He wasn’t cute. Until he started talking about baseball.
“Okay, can you name the three players who hit forty-plus homers and what year they did it? I’ll give you a hint if you need it… they were Braves.”
“I give up.”
“You didn’t even try!” Jack protested, his eyes blazing with annoyance as he squinted at me over the top of his aviator lenses.
I turned to look at him, giving him my full attention. I was blown away by how outlandishly hot the guy was practically every time I saw him, but it was times like that, when he was just an enthusiastic sports fan animatedly discussing one of his favorite pastimes, he became something more. More real, more magnetic. Just more.
I grinned, rolled my eyes, and gave him a hand signal indicating he was free to share, as I sat back in my seat to watch the action on the field.
“C’mon. I’ll give you the year. Nineteen-seventy-three. Now see if you can name at least one player with over forty homers that year on the Braves.” I caught his earnest expression out of the corner of my eye and felt obliged to rack my brain.
I came up blank but gave a safe answer. “Hank Aaron.”
“Good boy! He had forty. Davey Johnson had forty-three and?—”
“Darrell Evans,” I supplied, remembering a baseball card from my youth.
I wished there was a way to hit a Repeat button on Jack’s reaction to my knowing the third forty-plus home-run hitter of 1973. He positively beamed at me. His blue eyes twinkled, his megawatt smile gleamed, and that gorgeous dimple I didn’t always notice was fully apparent. It was a look of pure sunshine. I wanted to bask in it as long as possible. If we weren’t in a public venue, I had a strong feeling he would have kissed me then. I swallowed hard and took a handful of peanuts from the bag between us. I could feel him looking at me but I didn’t dare return the gesture. I nudged his knee with my mine and smiled in spite of myself when he nudged my elbow from the armrest in response.
He slyly ran the side of his hand along my jean-covered thigh as he resumed his one-man stat routine, seemingly unaware of his effect on me. My dick thickened painfully, and I was grateful to be sitting for a long stretch, hoping his stream of baseball trivia would eventually relieve the pressure.
“You seem to have regressed a few decades since we got here.”
“When I order the Cracker Jacks is when you should worry.” Jack chuckled good-naturedly.
The afternoon sun was shying behind cooler spring clouds when we made our way back to the parking lot. It had been a great afternoon. Jack was easy company: funny and effortlessly charming. I didn’t think he was trying to be amusing for my sake; rather I got the impression that maybe this was a bonus of being with someone who was older and more mature. He knew who he was. And I was left wanting to know more. It was a relief to be with someone confident and self-assured who didn’t come across as overbearing and pompous. I always thought of myself as having those qualities, but I was beginning to think age and experience had more to do with a real claim to “not giving a fuck” about what other people think about who you are and what you like. I was a work in progress. Jack was the real deal.
“I don’t know about you, but peanuts and a lukewarm beer aren’t near enough fuel for me. I’m starving. Want to grab something to eat?” Jack asked as he tossed a helmet at me.
“Yeah, sounds good, but I…”
Jack shot me one his patent “get on with it” looks paired with a goofy eye-roll, and I felt immediately at ease. I didn’t know how he did it, but I loved it. His laid-back temperament gave me the subtle push I needed to suggest what I wanted to do next.
“I’m waiting… what do you want? A burger? A steak? Or are you a vegetarian? Quit stallin’, honey, I’m gonna chew my arm off if I don’t?—”
“Do you want to come back to my place?” I tried to sound nonchalant as I made a big show of fastening the stupid strap under my chin. “I mean… I went to the market this morning, which I don’t do often, so when I go I tend to buy too much. I have chicken, rice, and stuff to make a decent salad. Oh… and cold beer.”
I was talking faster than normal and looking anywhere but at Jack. However, when he remained silent, I gave in to see if he’d heard a word I said. His head was cocked, and although I couldn’t see his eyes because of his sunglasses, I felt a strange vibe and wondered if I’d been too impulsive.
“Sure. I’d like that.” Jack grinned wickedly and mounted his bike, leaving me standing like an idiot wondering what I’d done. Was I asking for more than dinner? I really couldn’t say.
Panic set in on the drive over as I belatedly remembered my apartment was a freaking mess. I had been too nervous to hang around that morning, so I’d made myself busy with a trip to the gym and a trip to the market. Maybe it wasn’t really that bad. Maybe Jack was an even bigger slob than me and he wouldn’t notice the stacks of unopened mail and pile of old magazines and newspapers. I tried to recall if I’d actually thrown away the takeout boxes or just thought about doing so.
By the time we’d reached my door, I’d worked myself up. I was nervous all over again and fidgety. My hand shook slightly as I fiddled to fit my key in the lock. Jack must have sensed my bout of anxiety, but he didn’t say anything. He gently set a calming hand on my lower back and pressed a light kiss on my temple.
I finally got the door open and took a mad look at my surroundings to see what I could do damage-control wise before offering my guest a drink. Other than the obvious clutter, my apartment was small but nice. Aaron had insisted on helping me with paint colors and a couple of key purchases, like a new chocolate-colored sofa, armchair, and bright throw pillows. But I’d kept the old coffee table from the bachelor pad I’d shared with Matt and Dave. No one else wanted it, and I liked that it represented our law-school days. Plus I never had to worry about staining it. It was beyond redemption, scratched and worn.
I walked from the small foyer into the main living area, aware of Jack’s presence behind me as I deftly picked up a couple of dirty mugs in one hand and two empty to-go boxes with the other before traipsing to the nearby kitchen with its open layout giving a full view to the other dishes I had yet to get around to cleaning over the past week. Or two.
“Holy… wow!”
“Uh… yeah well, I meant to clean up a little this morning but I didn’t get arou—” I bit the inside of my cheek nervously as I rushed back into the living room to gather another round of crap. “I don’t usually let it get this cluttered. I like things clean.”
The first part was an outright lie while the second was a half-truth. Either way, Jack called me on it immediately.
“Right. I bet” came the sarcastic reply. “No offense, but… damn.” Jack made a theatrical sweep of his hands, indicating that the piles of newspapers, empty takeout containers, throw pillows strewn on the floor, and old coffee cups littering various surfaces did not impress him.
“Well excuse me, Mr. Clean and Tidy, but I didn’t realize I’d have company today. I would have made a point to tidy up for you. Geez!” I narrowed my eyes at him, annoyed and totally embarrassed.
Jack rolled his eyes and began picking up trash and gathering cups on the coffee table.
“You are a confusing man, Curtis. You’re a control freak. I don’t know you well but I know you hate not knowing what’s going on, when it’s happening, and you’d like to know you’ll be safe. Aren’t control freaks supposed to be, I don’t know… a little tidier? Shouldn’t you care that you’re practically begging to catch some bacterial bug surrounding yourself in a few weeks’ worth of takeout boxes?” Jack continued his muttering as he made his way to the kitchen and then back again. He sounded flustered and agitated as he added, “I can’t even think in these conditions.”
“I guess my secret’s out,” I tried to joke, giving him a weak chuckle. I could feel my face brighten with embarrassment. “Uh… can I get you a beer?”
“I think I need a beer,” Jack countered. He shook his head in bewilderment as he removed his leather jacket and made a big production of checking the chair he was draping it over before doing so.
“It’s not that bad.” I gave a half-chuckle, amused now by his show of anal retentiveness. Jack shot me a “you’ve got to be kidding” wide-eyed stare as I headed back to the kitchen with the last remnants of obvious clutter.
Jack followed me into the small space and stood with his hip perched against the counter. I’d have to bet he was unaware of how completely he took over any given room, let alone my tiny galley-style kitchen. I handed him a cold beer and tipped my bottle to his.
“Cheers.” Jack gave me a small grin that quickly broke into a megawatt smile, lighting up his face and making his blue eyes twinkle.
“I’m not the greatest cook, but I can follow basic instructions.” I needed a diversion fast. My jeans were tight again. Dammit. “I bought a precooked chicken. So that part is easy. I’ll just start the rice and throw together a quick salad. Okay by you?”
“Sounds good. Let me help. I can follow instructions too.”
I gulped, took a swig from the bottle, and turned back to the fridge to grab the necessary ingredients. And to hide my hard-on. My jeans felt way too snug. No man had ever had this effect on me. It was strange. The worst part was not knowing if he had any of the same feelings for me. Intellectually, I figured he had to have some teensy bit of desire. Why else would he have asked me to the game today? And he kissed me last night after my date with… shit, I couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. Jack was all I could think of.
We worked companionably in the confined space, cutting vegetables and talking about the game we’d just been to while another one played as background music on the television in the living room.
“I’m not trying to encourage you necessarily, but how do you know so much baseball trivia? Did you memorize the sports category of Trivial Pursuit?”
Jack kindly chuckled at my lame joke. “No, funny guy. My stepdad was a big fan. I grew up watching and playing baseball.” He gave me what I was beginning to think of as his patent Jack shrug, which I understood to mean he didn’t have any other explanation. “He collected baseball cards and it sparked an interest. I literally would memorize those cards, and we’d get into big debates about player stats and an athlete’s career longevity. It was a bonding thing, I suppose. His way of connecting with a scrawny smart-ass kid who wasn’t his own. It worked. When he left, I was sad to see him go.”
Jack spoke quietly in a matter-of-fact tone. He wasn’t making a point of talking about childhood loss, but it hung in the air between us like a dark cloud that had the power to dampen the carefree mood if we let it.
“I guess it was like that for me too. My whole family was into baseball. Growing up, I couldn’t wait to get my first glove.” I smiled at the long-ago memory as I handed Jack his plate and nudged him toward my small kitchen table.
I bit into my chicken and was happy I’d gone with a prepared bird. It tasted better than anything I might have attempted. When I looked over at my quiet companion, I found him staring at me.
“What?” I used my napkin liberally, hoping I wasn’t wearing my meal.
“I’m curious about you. Where you come from, what made you who you are… but I get the sense you don’t like talking about your family.”
It was my turn to shrug as though the chicken hadn’t turned to sawdust in my mouth. I took a swig from my beer bottle, hoping to wash away the wicked taste. Jack was silent across the small table. For some reason I noticed his fork in his hand, thinking it looked so tiny. It struck me as funny, like he was a Jack-and-the-Beanstalk giant. Since his name actually was Jack, I burst into a fit of inappropriate laughter I couldn’t seem to control. Tears ran down my face, and Jack’s bemused expression only fueled my mirth. When I finally managed to regain control, I had a good case of hiccups to deal with. I could feel my face heat furiously as I struggled to get my newest source of mortification under wraps. I stole a surreptitious glance at Jack and felt my heart skip a beat. He sat silent and still with his head cocked, wearing an expression full of compassion, grace, and kindness. His look quietly spoke volumes.
Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t worry about anything. You’re safe. You’re good. I have nothing but time. You aren’t alone.
I immediately sobered and attempted another drink of beer.
“I’m sorry. I….” I stared off in the direction of the television. The game was over, and a couple of former athletes were sitting at a table talking about the old days.
“Don’t be. Is it okay to ask how your dad is doing? You said he was sick.”
“Um….”
“We don’t have to go there, but sometimes it helps.” Another shrug.
I fixed my gaze to the beautiful tattoo on Jack’s arm. It was a strong design, done mostly with black ink but with color there also. Bursts of red, orange, and green gave life to the gorgeous tribal designs as flames intertwined with the barbed pattern. I took a deep breath and looked up.
“He’s dying. So I guess the short answer is that he isn’t doing well at all.” I sounded cold and distant. I hated my spiteful tone and that my inclination was to hate my family for bringing out the worst in me.
“Hmm.”
“I… I don’t mean to sound like a prick, but I’ve tried hard to keep three thousand miles between us in both a figurative and literal sense. So this… my dad… I don’t really know how to deal with this…. Does that make sense?”
“Can I ask what happened?” Jack’s voice was low. So low I almost didn’t catch what he was saying.
Of course he could ask. Whether or not I was ready to share was the real question. I never talked about my family. Somehow I sensed the hunky, muscled, tattooed man sitting at my kitchen table with a countenance of wisdom and patience might just make the perfect confidante. I believed he was trustworthy and moreover, I thought he just might be right. Maybe talking would help. Maybe this was part of my process to shed my past and begin a real future.
“Uh… well, okay. The condensed version is I went to college a straight kid and came back a gay man. With a boyfriend. The boyfriend didn’t come home with me, but… you get the picture.” I paused, unsure about how to continue. “They didn’t think I was serious at first. They thought it was a weird joke. You know, the kind of liberal comedy college kids bring home to their conservative folks just to get them riled up. When it became clear I wasn’t kidding, they went berserk. Actually, my dad went crazy. My mom just drank. Quietly and often.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah. The problem wasn’t their reaction. I sort of expected it. In fact, there was a part of me that enjoyed it. Which of course made my father even more nuts.”
“Sounds like you were primed and ready for a fight.” Jack’s tone made it evident he shared similar feelings at some point in his youth.
“Probably. I’m from San Francisco, man. A mecca for gay rights and liberal thought. Home of the beatnik poets, hippy love, and the Folsom Street Fair. How the fuck was I born into the most conservative family in the entire city? It was cruel. At least, that’s how my younger self saw the world. I still contend it was, to a degree, but we can’t change where we come from. Only where we go. Right? Someone famous must have said that.”
“There’s a line something like that in The Perks of Being a Wallflower ,” Jack said, smiling.
“I like that book.” I smiled wistfully, thinking it was tempting to change topics and talk literature. I took a sip from my beer bottle before continuing. “I felt the way most kids do when they come home from college for the first time. Invincible, cocky, and self-righteous. I didn’t hesitate when I told them who I was. Like most dumb teenagers, I miscalculated the aftereffects. They were considerable.”
Jack leaned forward in his chair and brushed his fingers against mine, silently urging me to go on with what he must have gathered was the difficult part. I felt my pulse race and my palms sweat. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction for me when I thought of the past. But this time I wasn’t alone. Jack covered my hand and squeezed lightly.
“My dad is a big tech exec, and my mom’s family is old California money. Big bucks. Railroad and other stuff. Anyway, when he asked my boyfriend’s name, I told him. I was out and proud now. I didn’t think it mattered. It did. Turns out that Kyle’s dad worked for mine. Not directly, but for some firm my dad sat on the board for. Strike one. He set up a ‘meeting’ for us. Parents, Kyle, and me. I was scared, I admit, but Kyle was terrified. He hadn’t told his parents, so they were blindsided by the ‘reveal,’ and on top of it, they were extremely religious. Fuck!”
I had to stand. My skin felt too tight suddenly and tingly. I could feel the panic threatening to choke me. I took a deep breath, vaguely aware Jack had risen too. He wasn’t touching me, but he was near.
“Our parents decided we were confused and some retraining would be beneficial.”
“Retrain… are you saying they sent you to one of those…?”
“The term is ‘gay conversion therapy’ programs. And no, I didn’t go. I was spared. But Ky… he wasn’t.”
I didn’t realize I had tears in my eyes until Jack wiped one from my cheek. He pulled me into his arms and held me tightly as I gasped in sorrow. I didn’t cry. I never did. This was an otherworldly type of grief. It wouldn’t be easily washed away with cleansing tears. I didn’t understand it. Why now? The current was strong and it threatened to pull me physically under. I felt weak, horribly fragile… and afraid.
Why was I falling apart from a ten-year-old tale? It had been an undeniably awful time in my life. But it was ancient history. Kyle was okay now. I knew he’d survived his ordeal and was in fact living with a man he met and fell in love with during the failed therapy. Maybe the years didn’t matter. My guilt had overwhelmed me. Obviously it still did.
“I’m sorry.” I pushed Jack’s chest slightly, needing some breathing room. I stepped away and rolled my eyes, wanting some levity to diffuse the ugly memory. I tried to think of a joke but came up short. “Fuck, I… I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. It was a long time ago. Ky is fine and living a beautiful gay life somewhere, and I’m here… doing the same. It was a bad chapter in the life and times of the young Curtis Townsend. That’s all.”
“Don’t apologize.” Jack’s tone had me doing a double take. He didn’t sound angry per se, more like fierce.
“O-kay….” I took a deep breath and walked over to the sofa, hoping he’d join me. I had lost my appetite. “I’m fine now. Just so you know. It was a surreal time for sure, but I survived. My grandmother was the one who called a stop to my so-called ‘therapy.’” I stopped, smiling weakly at the memory of her swooping in to save the day. “She suggested a change of scenery instead, which is how I ended up in Georgetown, where, as you astutely figured out the first night we met, I’ve stayed. It’s safe here because they aren’t around, and I don’t have to worry constantly about being the big family embarrassment.”
Jack finally joined me, sitting heavily next to me. Close enough our knees touched. His expression was thoughtful and so beautifully earnest. I melted a little, knowing he was an empathetic man.
“Thanks, Jack.”
He looked surprised and shook his head in denial. “I didn’t?—”
“You listened. Thanks.” I felt my pulse return to normal and decided if I couldn’t find a humorous way out of this conversation, I could always offer more beer. I stood to go to the kitchen. Jack stopped my progress, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping his large, comforting arms around my waist.
“I guess I understand the daddy issue now.” His words were muffled in my chest, but they made me smile. A silly reference to our age difference that had no basis in reality. Our eyes met and we chuckled.
“I don’t have daddy….” I busted up in a fit of giggles. I didn’t know if it qualified as inappropriate laughter or not, but it was a much-needed release. I bent down to kiss Jack’s lips. A friendly kiss, a thank-you kiss. But it quickly became more.
Jack slid his fingers up my back and took my head in his hands, holding me still as he deepened the kiss, licking at my lips until they parted. He sighed into my mouth and gently probed my tongue with his. I swiveled to face him, wanting to feel the press of his chest against mine. Our positions on the sofa made it difficult to move, so I gave up and kissed him as deeply as possible, stopping only to trace his stubbled chin with my tongue and nibble along the thick column of his neck and jawline. His scent alone was intoxicating and I wanted more. I pulled back slightly to catch my breath and felt Jack’s hard-on through his jeans. With a sureness that surprised me, I cupped his dick with my open palm. Jack groaned and tilted his hips to meet the friction.
“Curtis… fuck. I want you.”
Thank God. I sat up taller in his lap and looked down at his handsome face, his kiss-swollen lips, and loved the hunger so evident in his heavy-lidded gaze.
“Come with me.” I stood and took his hand in mine, pulling him to the bedroom.
My apartment was tiny, so it was a matter of a few steps to get to the short hallway leading to the only bedroom. Jack’s hands roaming down my shoulders and over the small of my back kept me from thinking about the state we might find my room in. I knew I hadn’t made the bed, but I couldn’t remember if I’d picked up my dirty clothes. All week. I turned in Jack’s arms, fusing our bodies as close as possible, hoping to divert his attention until I could get him in my bed.
“Mmm. You’re a hopeless slob,” he commented in between kissing and biting at my collarbone. “Somehow I don’t care right now. Just… get some of those clothes off.”
I whimpered in agreement and turned to rid the bed of some clutter. Jack slapped my ass hard, making me jump in surprise.
“I meant off you. Take your shirt off.”
My mouth went dry, but I obeyed. I slipped my T-shirt over my head and waited for Jack to do the same.
“Now your jeans.” I nodded and fumbled with my belt, struggling to get my fingers to cooperate.
“What about you?” I pushed my jeans down around my ankles but left my boxer briefs on. My erection pushed the fabric far from my body, making it clear I was very turned-on.
“Don’t worry about me. Jeans off, honey, and lay down.” Jack moved toward my queen-size bed muttering about “pigpens,” which made me giggle for no real reason. I felt another sharp sting on my right cheek and scowled over my shoulder.
“Ow!”
“Shh. Lie down. Let me look at you.”
I lay back on the cool white sheets and looked up at Jack, torn between feeling self-conscious and very aroused. He stood over me, wearing an intense expression of desire and lust. He licked his upper lip before stepping toward the bed.
“Please take your shirt off. I… I want to see you.”
Jack gave me his sweet, lopsided grin and untucked his T-shirt from his waistband before slowly slipping the fabric over his head. I think my heart stopped beating for a second or two. I had never been with a guy as drop-dead sexy as Jack. Ever. His chest was broad and muscular with only the smallest trail of dark hair leading south from his belly button. But it was the inked artwork on his ripped torso that held my attention. I was finally getting my first glimpse of what I’d been fantasizing over, and it was a heady feeling to have my fantasy come to life.
The sleeve tattoo on his arm was beautifully detailed. It went over his left shoulder and across the top part of his pecs. I hoped I would get another chance to examine the design to get a good feel for its intricacies. Another tat of something winged and fiery wrapped around his abdomen along his right side and obviously went lower than his jeans allowed me to see. There was something written in script low on his torso also, but I couldn’t make it out until he took the rest of his clothes off. I snuck a peek up at my lover. Jack was watching me carefully, his eyes half-closed. I reached for his belt, emboldened by my need and grateful to find he felt the same.
“Wait.” Jack stilled my hand.
“Why?”
“Let me touch you, honey. You’re so fuckin’ hot.”
“Me?”
Jack toed off his boots and laughed as he climbed over my body, straddling me between his big thighs. I gulped and tried to focus as he ran his large hands over my shoulders, down my chest, and over my stomach. He tweaked my nipples, rubbing them hard between his thumbs and forefingers. I arched my back off the bed and into his touch.
“Fuck! Jack, I’m dying here. Could we go slow next time? I need to feel you. Please. Get naked.”
He nodded wordlessly and shifted off the bed, making quick work of his jeans. He left his underwear on. It was black and was the kind that barely covers your parts… the kind meant to please your partner. I was pleased. I reached out and pulled him back over me, gasping as he pressed his weight into me, letting our hard cocks touch through the flimsy cotton.
I relished my first opportunity to feel his muscular frame against mine. I hooked my arms around him and let my hands explore his toned back, then travel down his side and lower still, finally letting them rest on his tight, firm ass. Jack pulled up on his elbows and stared down at me before reaching between us to align our dicks. Then he cupped my ass with one hand and forced us closer together. The friction and feel of his powerful body was sublime. I knew it wouldn’t take much for me to come. A couple more strokes and I might totally embarrass myself. I didn’t want to take that chance, especially when I didn’t know if I’d get another.
“Can I taste you? Suck you?”
Jack went still, perhaps as surprised as I was at my brazen request. I watched his Adam’s apple move in his throat and his eyes darken. He bent down and kissed me. A soft brush of lips. He shifted back to sit on his knees between my open thighs and gave me a hungry look before he slipped his fingers under the elastic of my briefs and pulled them over my ass in one deft motion. I was rock-hard and leaking precum. In a way, I was too far-gone to feel self-conscious. I knew I was fit and my body was toned, but I was lean, almost skinny, and I didn’t think that was particularly sexy. Jack’s growl of appreciation went a long way toward changing my mind.
His nostrils flared slightly, and he swallowed once before reaching out to touch my hard flesh. I watched him struggle for control before finally giving in to desire. He gripped my cock firmly at the base and stroked me slowly, his eyes fixated on the steady motion. I gasped and arched forward, wanting more.
“Fuck, that feels good.”
My words seemed to wake him up. He looked into my eyes before lowering his head and swallowing me whole. I cried out in surprise as his warm mouth worked me over, sucking and licking in a frenzied act of passion. I leaned up on my elbows and watched his dark head bobbing up and down. It had to be the most erotic thing I’d ever seen, and I was dangerously close to losing it.
“Stop.” Jack paused and looked up, his tongue resting on the tip of my dick. “I’m gonna come if you don’t. Could you… um… can I see you? Please?”
Jack gave me strained smile, licked my shaft one last time, and then leaned forward to kiss me. I could taste myself on his tongue. It had me moaning all over again. I was desperate to get my mouth on him. I pushed at his wide, muscular chest, letting him know I was anxious for my turn. Jack chuckled and lay beside me.
“Okay, honey. I’m all yours.”
I scrambled up and climbed over him. I couldn’t believe I had someone like him in my bed. A god. A fucking beautiful hunk of a man inviting me to do whatever the fuck I wanted. I wanted to pinch myself. This stuff didn’t happen to me.
“I’m waiting, sugar.” His taunting tone woke me up.
“I just… want to look at you. I’ve never….”
“Hey….”
I waited for him to speak, for the spell to break. But he didn’t say a word. He sat up and pulled me forward so I was sitting on his lap, my erect cock resting between our stomachs. I bit my lip and looked into his kind blue eyes. Gone was the teasing and taunting playful Jack.
“Honey, what do you mean you’ve never…?”
Oh. That was funny. I burst out into a bout of inappropriate laughter.
“No. I didn’t mean I’d never had sex before. I meant I’d….” I sobered immediately and bit at my lip again nervously before blurting out the truth. “I’ve never been with someone like you. You’re so….”
“Shh. No more talking.” He wrapped his strong arms around me and squeezed me flat against his massive chest. “I think you said something about sucking my dick.”
We both chuckled and then stared at each other in the dim light as twilight seeped in through my bedroom blinds. Our lips met, followed quickly by tongues. Gentle exploration soon gave way to something much more intense. We bit and clawed in our quest to get closer. My naked cock strained for friction against his still-covered one. I reached between us and moved back on his lap far enough to free his rigid cock from the confines of his sexy underwear. Jack groaned as our naked flesh touched. Soft skin stretched across his impossibly hard, heavy member in my hand. He was bigger and thicker than me. Perfect.
Jack leaned back on the pillow and gave me room to explore. I studied the tattoos on his lower abdomen before running my hand over his hip, then down between his thighs. I let my fingers dip lower to fondle his heavy balls, kneading them gently. Jack palmed his rock-hard prick, holding it so it stuck straight up away from his body. I snickered at his obvious invitation and bent to lick the wide mushroom head. I let my tongue play with the slit, making a swirling motion over and over while my fingers still worked on his balls, before licking a path down to the base of his cock and back up again.
“Damn, that’s good, but… more.”
I smiled and wrapped my mouth around him, sucking him with everything I had.
“Holy fuck!” I felt the bed move as Jack propped himself up to watch me on one elbow and placing one hand over my head. He didn’t push, but I sensed his resolve weaken as I picked up the pace, alternately sucking and licking in a steady rhythm. I reached down and worked my own rigid dick, using the precum drooling at the tip as lubricant while I continued pleasuring Jack. I could tell the moment his control snapped, and it was a heady feeling to be the one responsible for it. The hand resting on my head grabbed and held me in place. He fucked up into my mouth like a man possessed, then pushed my head back and howled as he spurted streams of come onto his chest. I leaned over his quaking body and pulled at my cock furiously, holding on to his bent knee as my release claimed me, covering Jack’s spent dick and lower abdomen.
Our heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. I doubt I would have been able to hear anything over the pounding of my heart beating. My whole body pulsed and quivered, and my legs shook in an effort to stay kneeling. I licked my lips and made a move to get off the bed, but Jack stopped me and pulled me flat over him instead.
“Yuck!” Our combined release glued us together. I struggled to get out of his playful bear hug, which seemed to amuse him. He chuckled into my neck and bit my shoulder lightly.
“Now you decide you don’t like messes?”
“No, I like this kind of mess. I just don’t like sticking in it.”
“That’s part of the afterglow, though. Right? Sticking to your sexy lover in a cummy mess. Yum.”
“You’re gross and I’m getting up to get a towel. Don’t move.”
“Don’t worry. You wrung me out, honey.”
I came back with a warm, wet cloth, wiping at my stomach as I made my way to the bed.
“I think you were supposed to offer that to me first. I’m the guest.” Jack arched one eyebrow in challenge.
“You mean you’re the pest. Here… move your arm. Let me clean you up.”
“Wait. Taste this first.”
Jack traced his forefinger languidly in a circular motion on his chest and then brought it to his lips, licking one side. He pressed his finger to my bottom lip in invitation. Unbelievably, I felt myself stir. I was turned-on all over again, though I knew I had little hope of doing anything about it in my current spent condition. I stuck the tip of my tongue out and closed my eyes as I tasted our combined juices from my lover’s fingers.
“That is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jack whispered reverently.
I whimpered in response. I had no words. Jack took the towel from me and cleaned his stomach quickly before tossing it carelessly to the floor.
“Hey! One does not throw cummy towels on the ground like that. It’s poor manners, guest,” I mock-admonished him.
Jack’s devilish grin lit the darkened room, warning me he was planning an attack. I let out a gasp of surprise when I found myself flat on my back and pinned to the bed with my hands held high above my head.
“Are you trying to tell me you have standards, pest?” His blue eyes twinkled as he bent over to lick a sloppy trail up my neck.
“Yuck! Stop! That’s gross!” I tried to escape his hold but knew it was useless.
“Too yucky for you, honey?” He teased me mercilessly, licking me like a cat before beginning a full round of tickle torture. I was breathless in no time, begging him to stop.
“Fine. Baby!” Jack released my arms and kissed my forehead and nose before climbing off the bed in search of his clothes.
“You play dirty,” I accused, still trying to get my breath back.
Jack grinned, slipping his jeans neatly over his sexy tight ass. I diverted my gaze, knowing I was staring all over again. Nothing more was happening here tonight. I needed to get up and show my gentleman caller to the door. I felt oddly bereft. It had been one of the best dates… no, it had been the best date I’d ever been on, though I smartly kept quiet as I remembered Jack didn’t “do dates.” I was sad to say good-bye.
Jack sat next to me on the bed. We were quiet while he put his boots on. Good-byes could be so awkward, and I sure as hell had no idea what came next. When he turned to face me, I gulped audibly. I wanted him all over again. I wanted the teasing, the laughter, the silly baseball stats and yeah… I wanted the sex. There was no doubt he could see all that and more written plainly on my face. Jack took my chin in my hand and brushed his lips sweetly against mine. The kiss deepened, but we didn’t linger.
“I have to go, honey. I need to check in at the bar and… I’ll call you.”
“Yeah. Um. Hey, Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“How did you get my number? I was wond?—”
“I sent a text to Jay and Peter.” His hand was on the door handle. He lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant fashion as though it were totally normal to send a honeymooning couple a request for a guy’s phone number.
“But they….” I let it go. It was enough that he did it. I certainly didn’t need to question any further. “Hey, thank you for today. For everything.”
He inclined his head once and turned for the door.