Chapter 10
Ten
Sterling
He has more tattoos hidden under his clothes, and man is he a work of art to look at.
This man deserves to be part of one of those damn museum displays, because holy heck is he the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.
Hayden has muscles for days and is filling out his Calvin Klein underwear better than any other piece of clothing I’ve seen him in.
I thought I did a bad job trying to convince myself I had zero interest in him before, but it’s pointless to even try to lie to myself about not wanting him now.
Because let’s be honest here, I didn’t go to Miranda’s place for a reason.
It wasn’t where I wanted to be, and it would have done nothing to sate what I feel every time this man walks into a room.
Jerking off to thoughts of him isn’t going to get me anywhere either, and neither is holding his hand while telling myself it’s enough.
Even though I’ve enjoyed doing it more than a lot of the things I’ve done with other people, I need much more.
My body’s tired of me teasing it with samples and is begging for the whole damn platter.
This could push back the goal I’ve set for myself, though. I only have to stop things from going too far for three more days. I can handle that, can’t I? I’m not that fucking weak when it comes to a person from a gender I’ve been able to pretend I have zero interest in for the last five years.
It wasn’t until an old friend of mine talked me and others into playing a game of strip poker that I considered I might be heteroflexible.
That’s a thing, I googled it, and it’s pretty common with a lot of straight men.
Just a little curiosity that can quickly be forgotten with the right distraction.
Pretty sure it’s going to take a miracle to distract me from him, though.
But what if I could fuck him one time and let it end there?
Then we can both walk away, forgetting it happened, and I can move on with my life while making him nothing more than a one-time thing.
His thick, sexy fingers flex as he puts them together, preparing to dive in the water, and my hole twitches.
Or maybe he could fuck me. I might hate it, and then I’ll stop wanting to move my hands to my ass whenever I fuck my hand.
I could hate it.
What if that’s the answer to all my problems?
Me hating it and it ruining what I’ve been thinking has been an amazing day with him?
I won’t know until I try, will I? What if we don’t use lube and I tell him to skip the prepping I’ve seen done in porn videos.
It would be painful and uncomfortable. It would give me more reasons not to want it again. To not want it with him again.
“You coming in or what?” he says, bobbing up and down in the water. I was so caught up in my head I missed him jumping in and the big splash he left all around me. My feet are wet and I didn’t feel it until now.
“Yeah. Was thinking about work, sorry.”
“That’s not allowed here. Now hurry up and get in here so I can stop feeling so lonely.”
Scoffing, I do a backwards jump, and the water doesn’t cover the pavement as much as his dive did. He’s beside me, running a hand down his face with his hair completely soaked. “That was good, but I really hope you can do better.”
“Oh, you do, do you? What about you?” I challenge. “I want to see you do better.”
Without another word, he lifts himself out of the water by hooking his fingers onto the edge of the pool.
Water drips down his body, the cotton of his underwear clinging to him everywhere.
His cock swings from side to side as he turns to face the water.
My mouth goes dry and I stay unmoving as he does a cannonball after yelling it.
Water goes everywhere, even up my nose. It takes me inhaling too much of it to finally act like a human. I pinch my nose and blow forward.
He looks at me warily, lightly tapping my back. “You okay there, champ?
I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah. Well enough to get you back times two.”
His eyes brighten with amusement. “Let’s see it, then.”
I shove him away and my jump is nowhere as good as his last one, so I try again, doing better the next go around.
“Try to beat that splash,” I say, lifting my chest at him, and his eyes darken with something mischievous.
“Okay.” Before I can register what he’s doing, he grabs me by the hips and pins me to the nearest wall, tugging down my underwear.
His fingers wrap around my shaft, and he slams his hand back before pushing it forward.
He keeps repeating the action, palming me over and over.
Water sprays between us. His elbow is hitting the water each time, making it raise more.
“I think I can do better than that too,” he stammers.
Flames lick at my insides, my body spiraling and preventing me from forming any logical thoughts to stop what’s happening.
He tilts my head back, sealing his mouth over mine, and that’s when I finally snap out of my paralyzed state and bite his tongue. He groans, pulling back to rub at his mouth, and when he lowers his hand, he’s smiling. The fucker is smiling.
“I think I might be bleeding. Do that again.” He lifts me higher out of the water, making it sway around us.
As his face inches forward, I shove my hand against his chest, but that only stops him from kissing me again, not from stroking my cock.
He grins, his breath picking up to match mine.
“What’s wrong? Do you prefer getting off before I kiss you?
Is it hard to focus on one thing while also doing the other?
Would you rather only feel one part of me connecting with you at a time? ”
“No,” I sputter. “I . . .” My brain shuts off and I roll my hips, making animalistic sounds as heat pools in my belly. “I . . . I want you to stop touching me altogether.”
“Are you sure?” He cocks a brow and keeps driving me crazy with his hand, and my hips meet him halfway, adding to the splash around us. “Because that’s not what your body’s telling me.”
“It . . . oh, fuck.” I arch my hips, fucking his hand at a different angle.
His skin rubs over my skin, creating fireworks, and I’m bursting from the inside, my vision hit with every color of the rainbow as I come so hard I nearly black out.
He grabs me as I begin to sink, rubbing a hand over my back while whispering, “I think we can do better than that, don’t you? ”
I rub my face into his neck, my orgasm making it hard to think straight. I can’t remember how to move or that I’m supposed to be getting away. I can’t remember why I’m supposed to either.
He kisses the side of my face, his fingers sliding inside the back of my underwear to tease my crack.
I tighten up as he spreads my cheeks apart to press on my entrance.
I’m rocking my hips again, acting like a damn cat in heat, and as though I didn’t just come seconds ago, my cock is already twitching for round two.
“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He nips at my ear, and I let out a needy sound.
Now’s my chance to get him to do something to make me stop enjoying it. Now’s my chance to connect him to a painful experience. I need to hate him. It’s the only way I’ll be able to go back to my trailer without wanting to return here for more.
“I want your fingers inside me,” I croak out.
“You do, don’t you, my little star. You’re shaking for it, aren’t you? Your little hole feels so empty.”
“Yes,” I say, my voice growing tight. “Help me,” I continue. “Help me feel better by getting me ready for your cock.”
A thick finger circles my rim and I cry out, my bottom lip sinking between my teeth. “Please.” My voice rings with desperation. “Please.” I sound so fucking breathless now.
He pulls his fingers away and shakes his head. “Not here.”
“Why not?” I choke out.
“Because it won’t feel good like this.”
“That’s okay.” I grab his shoulders to hold him in place when he tries to set me on my feet. “I can take it.”
His eyes blink hard and he shakes his head. “This is your first time having anything in there, isn’t it?”
“I . . .” Lie, fucking lie. “Yes.” What am I doing? I’m supposed to lie. What’s this power he holds over me? How is that he has me being more honest with him than I ever could be with my sister. It would make sense to do that with someone I’ve known all my life. Not with him.
“I thought as much. We’ll need lube and I’ll need to start off slow. Water will only create unwanted friction, and I could really hurt you.”
“I want to be hurt,” I say, my voice wavering. There’s a stab in my chest, and I immediately want to take back what I said.
“No you don’t. You’ll enjoy having me touch you. You’ll like everything I do to you.”
“No,” I yell out. “I don’t, I don’t want that.” I look away from him.
“Your words are saying one thing, but your body language is telling me another. Why are you lying to me, baby? Why are you trying to push me away?”
Baby. What is it about him using that term that has my heart warming? Why do I almost like it as much as I do when he calls me his little star?
“I . . .”
He traces my bottom with the pad of his thumb. “Tell me. You can tell me anything.”
I can, can’t I? He always listens and doesn’t ever hold any judgment against me. I really can tell him anything, and whenever we’re talking, it’s like I’ve suddenly been spoon-fed truth serum.
“I’m not gay,” I finally let out. More like I can’t look like I am. No one can ever catch us and think I am. It’s more than what my fans would think and the roles I might lose. It’s . . . fuck. I can be more honest with him than I can myself. It makes no sense.
“Maybe not, but you’re definitely not straight either.” He holds a twinkle in his eyes. He thinks he has me all figured out, doesn’t he? So many people think they do. And he actually might be closer than all of them combined.
“I don’t know what I am, but it can’t be this.”
His face falls and he carefully sets me down, stepping away. I miss the weight of his hands. They felt like the only thing keeping me steady, and now I’m swaying from side to side like I’ve forgotten how to balance myself.
“Fuck.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I thought you might be in the closet, but I didn’t know .
. .” He takes a breath before continuing.
“I didn’t realize it was this bad. Is this why you want it to hurt?
You want me to be the reason for you not to be who you truly are?
” His face trembles, and then he slams fist in the water causing me to jump.
“Well, I won’t be the one to do that. I won’t. ”
I nod and a huge pressure builds in my chest.
“You liked what we were doing earlier, didn’t you? You liked holding my hand as I gave you the tour of my house? You wanted me to come back to your trailer for way more than pop tarts, didn’t you?”
Tears gather in my eyes, and I grab onto the wall behind me as I feel myself sinking. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, what?” His chest heaves.
“Yeah, to all of it, okay?! I’m sorry, okay.” My throat clogs with emotion and his face grows sympathetic.
“No, baby. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you when you were clearly not ready, and I’m sorry for all the people who’ve made you feel bad for what you want.”
“I don’t want to want this.” My chest squeezes.
“Because someone convinced you it was wrong, right?”
I don’t say anything, I just cast my eyes down at the water.
“Does it feel wrong?” He lifts my chin with his fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes again.
“No. No, it feels . . .” I suck in a breath and my skin squeezes tightly around my bones.
“Tell me.”
“I . . .” I suck my bottom lip, rubbing the skin raw with my teeth and try speaking again.
“It feels so right. Like a hole that’s always existed inside me is finally being filled.
” But that’s only one thing I’ve been carrying around most of my life.
What will help repair the second one that I didn’t really take notice of until only a few years ago?
“Do I feel right to you?” He traces the outline of my jaw with his fingers, feathering his lips over mine, and I quiver all over.
“Yes.”
“How about now?” He traces the seam of my lips with his tongue and I nod, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.
“And now?” He presses his body to mine, taking his cock out to rub us together.
I whimper before saying, “Yes,” between clenched teeth. “Nothing has ever felt better.”
“I bet I could change your mind on that.”
My throat constricts, my eyes locking on his as my ears prepare themselves to hear what he’s about to propose.
His hot breath tickles my ear as his lips brush over the tip, and he whispers, “Let me take you upstairs and show you. Let me fill that sweet, hungry hole of yours the way it deserves to be filled. Let me do it the right way, and then you’ll see how much better it can be.”
“Okay,” I say, and that’s all it takes for him to carry me to the steps and haul me out of the pool to his bed, not caring about the water seeping into the cracks of his wooden floor or soaking his carpet.
He helps me out of my clothes and gently lays me on the mattress, caring more about me than his expensive bedding I’m ruining, and that’s all it takes for me to no longer try to stop him.