15 Cutter
I DON’T brEATHE EASY AGAIN until I’m in the back of the Uber heading home. Aubie offered to drive me, but there’s no way I’m getting into the car with him again. That ginormous island in his kitchen wasn’t enough space between us.
I thought about it, I really did.
His offer.
I shouldn’t have because, well, it’s Aubie.
But then, it’s me, too. Because like he said, he didn’t force me. I could have stopped him at any time.
But I didn’t.
If I’m to believe his deal, all I had to do was fuck him to end all this. We could both go back to our lives the way things used to be. Aubie would stop trying–and succeeding–to seduce me. And I would stop worrying about accidentally running into him alone. Just the way it used to be.
Then there’s this…
The two best blow jobs I’ve ever gotten in my life had one thing in common.
Aubie Gauthier.
I’m not into guys.
But…
But a blow job and sticking your dick in another guy’s ass are two different things. And I don’t think I can go there.
What about the other possibility? The one where it’s his dick doing the fucking? I considered that. Could I do it?
I don’t think so. At least, not right now. And I don’t even want to know what that means.
So I said no. To all of it.
But I can’t deny there’s something, some weird attraction, between us.
And I guess I’m going to find out just how strong it is now. Because something tells me I just jumped into a war I have no idea how to fight, much less win.
I don’t sleep much despite getting home earlier than usual. A long hot shower should have relaxed me, but my brain won’t stop running in circles and my body is in an embarrassing state of arousal. The swirl of thoughts in my head come back to one question.
Why?
Why me? Why now?
I have no control over what Aubie thinks or does, but I am in charge of my own reaction to it. So why am I obsessing over him? Why is he different?
When I was younger, I wanted to play baseball more than anything.
Little League led to trying out for pitcher on my junior high school team.
A big part of pitching is mental, and I excelled at keeping my mind clear and focused for games.
Even when I had the occasional bad outing, I was able to shake it off and bounce back.
My coaches loved me for my dependability.
I was always the first choice for big games.
At one time, I was even more highly-touted than my older quarterback brother.
I was the rising star of the Knight family.
For six years I continued my dominance, my hard work finally earning me an athletic scholarship to State with whispers of pro scouts watching from the stands.
I was drafted by Kansas City but elected to finish my degree.
I was still on the fence about whether I wanted to make baseball a career, but at the very least I would be getting a college education out of it.
Everything was clicking on all cylinders.
Amber and I were making plans for our future.
It seemed the world was mine for the taking, then that one fateful discovery ripped the whole fantasy apart.
Those five years I spent drowning at the bottom of a bottle stole not only my future, but my peace of mind.
Even after I got sober, I couldn’t regain my focus.
I don’t know if something broke inside me or if I’d been an imposter all along.
I’ve come to accept that I’ll never reach the top of the mountain again, but it would be nice to have that quiet confidence I used to enjoy.
I thought if I just had enough time, if I kept putting in the work, it would come back.
I thought I was doing well. I thought a lot of things. Things that Aubie is showing me are all bullshit now. My mind is as scattered as it ever was and my body is a stranger to me.
All because of one man. A man I shouldn’t even be thinking about, much less attracted to.
Because let’s face it, that’s what this is. A stupid attraction. Something I should just be able to push aside. And maybe I would, if I was stronger. If I was whole.
I can’t go through life blaming every bad thing that happens to me on Callum. Yes, he fucked up my life plan, but I’ve had enough time to correct course. Maybe if I had more of a support system, I could weather these storms more easily. Maybe if I could find it in me to trust again…
But I’m not there yet.
Just like I did when I was pitching, this is a jam I’m going to have to get myself out of.
And the only way I can see to do it is to avoid putting myself in compromising situations again.
Don’t get into cars with Aubie. Don’t go to his house.
Don’t go wandering around the club when he’s on stage.
And don’t, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be caught alone with him again.
I can’t explain this attraction, but I can control it by removing myself from the equation. At least until whatever this is either runs its course or Aubie gets bored with it.
And he will. Guys like him always do. Look at Callum.
I can outlast you, Aubie.
I finally fall asleep with that as my mantra.
? ? ?
Wrestling the Busa into the bed of my truck at the club isn’t my idea of fun.
It stopped raining during the night and while it’s not cold enough yet to form ice, the wind sure as hell makes it feel like it.
Despite the chill, I’m sweating hard by the time I get the bike strapped down and the ramp loaded.
Luckily I have a change of clothes in the office.
I grab my bag and make a quick scan of the parking lot before trotting to the back door. I know Aubie doesn’t dance tonight, but I wouldn’t put it past him to pop out of somewhere. He made it clear he wasn’t going to stop.
And despite my mental pep talk last night and this being a new day and a new attitude, I don’t know how I feel about that. I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore, and it’s kind of freaking me out.
I thought I had all this stuff figured out. I put a hold on relationships. I’d come to terms with being alone for a while. How long and why never really entered the conversation.
What does need to enter the conversation is not wanting to fall for the same trick again.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the smartest person in the room, but I do know a thing or two about human nature. People like Aubie, like my brother, even sometimes like Daryl, they’re all cut from the same cloth. The only person they care about is themselves. There’s no room for anyone else.
Which brings me to this. I realized this morning the real reason why I didn’t take Aubie’s offer.
The reason I didn’t want to think about last night but can own up to in the light of day.
I’m not interested in being his or anyone else’s ‘one time thing’ to scratch an itch.
I’m not disposable. I’ve been thrown in the trash once.
I climbed back out, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
So, no thank you.
Now if I could just get that message to my dick, because despite my better intentions, every time I picture his swollen lips smeared with my cum I get hard. And that’s got to stop. I can’t be having these thoughts and expect to get him out of my life.
Doesn’t change the fact that no matter what I do to avoid him in the club, I still know he’s out there. On stage. Doing what he said he was going to do.
Something in me wants to see that, as much as I hate the thought. But that’s not the worst part. The part that has me cursing myself is how I feel about him doing that in front of other people.
Because I don’t like it.
I don’t even want to examine what that means. It’s none of my business what Aubie does or does not do with his body…
That supple body.
That talented tongue.
That damned dragon writhing on his side
Stop it.
I know he’s playing head games with me, and judging by my current state of mind, he’s winning.
That’s what he does. That’s what they all do.
Is that how it was for Amber when Callum started running his game on her?
The last thing I want is to stir up sympathy for my ex-fiancé, but I can almost understand what she went through.
I feel like I’m drowning and there isn’t a breath to be had.
I would have thought I’d smashed the shit out of my libido during my five years of drunken chaos and debauchery. Though now that I think about it, there were far fewer opportunities for debauching than I like to imagine.
A good part of that is my own fault. I was an unpleasant emo grump who could barely focus enough to string together two sentences, and that was on my good days.
What woman would want to saddle herself with that, even for a night?
A lot of what happened back then is a fever dream, but one thing I can remember is I never attempted anything with a man. Never even gave it a thought.
Which makes this attraction that much more baffling.
Aside from his obvious physical beauty, which any other time I never would have noticed, there’s nothing to warrant this sudden obsession.
All the men who work at Eros are good-looking with ungodly bodies, but I’ve never looked at them with anything other than a platonic lack of interest. I guess with them I fell back on my years of locker room rules.
Don’t stare at your teammate’s junk…even if they’re wagging it in your face.
And yet when I caught sight of Aubie’s cock last night, I could feel my mouth start to water.
This is ridiculous.
I push those thoughts aside and enter the empty club, heading toward the front, flicking on lights as I go.
I’d just relaxed into the fact that I’m the only one here when I run headlong into the theater manager Renee rounding the corner like she’s on a mission.
“Jesus,” I gasp. “You scared the hell out of me.”
She offers a tight grimace–the woman never smiles–and steps back. “I didn’t know you came in this early.”
“I don’t usually, but I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Did you just get here?”