Chapter 10
TEN
LUC
I wake in the middle of the night. At least, I’m assuming it’s the middle of the night. I’m not sure how long we’ve been asleep.
The past day has gone by in a haze of good food, good conversation, and a lot of really good orgasms. A lot. I’m not sure I’ve come as much in the past year as I have in the past twenty-four hours.
We spent most of Sunday night cuddled up on the couch naked, staring into the firelight or at each other, talking and laughing.
I’m still surprised by how easy conversation with him is.
I forget that he’s a rockstar, or that we’re basically strangers.
It feels like catching up with someone I’ve known forever.
We made each other come with our mouths and fingers two more times before Jesse led me to his bedroom and went to start the shower.
But apparently when he came back to get me to join him, I’d fallen asleep.
I woke up late the next morning to his mouth on me, using my body against me to persuade me to stay for the day before turning me around and fucking himself between my thighs.
I was close to begging him to just do it, but we both seem to be holding back.
I don’t know why I’m nervous about it. It’s not like it’s my first time. And even though it’s been six years, I know the pleasure is going to overshadow any discomfort.
I think my nerves have more to do with the emotional effect of whatever is budding between us. I’m not sure I could handle waking up to an empty bed again after opening myself up this much.
Yeah, he said he wants us to date, even if that means he has to hide his relationship.
But what does that mean? And what do I have a right to ask for?
It’s bad enough to expect him to basically closet himself to be with me.
Is it fair to expect exclusivity when our schedules will make it impossible for us to see each other often?
Not to mention that he’s Jesse fucking Moore.
He’s one of the sexiest men on earth and a goddamn rock god.
But, oh hey, I’m basically in love with you even though I barely know you, based purely on the memory of one night years ago, and a single date turned weekend together, so could you keep it in your pants. For me?
Yeah right.
I know that the media and tabloids lie or grossly exaggerate what they report on celebrities. The story about the coverage of his father’s death was heartbreaking. No one should have their lives under a microscope like that, and then over-inflated for the world to pick apart.
He is a rockstar though, and he’s admitted to living a rockstar life.
It seems like he’s calmed down a lot since getting sober, and that’s encouraging, but if he’s given up drugs and alcohol and nearly every other vice, how could I ask him to give up sex, too?
It’d be one thing if I were around to give it to him, but I won’t be.
We’ll be lucky to see each other once a month during game season and when he’s on tour.
They’re at the peak of their career, too, with no signs of slowing down.
Who am I to ask him to give up anything? Especially if it might bring him happiness or comfort.
If anything, it’s too soon to expect anything from each other.
I know myself, and I know that if we cross this line, I’ll latch on harder than I ever have.
Then again, it might be too late. I think I was screwed the first time we had a real conversation.
And every time we touch, it’s… I don’t know what it is.
I’ve never felt like this before, with anyone.
Even when I’ve found other people attractive here and there, it didn’t work.
There wasn’t anything real between us, and I simply cannot perform on command, socially or sexually.
I’ll never forget the blind date AJ set me up with once.
It was a good friend of the girl he was dating at the time, and he begged me to go on this double date.
She was objectively extremely hot. She was a brand ambassador for some celebrity line of makeup products or something like that, and she was legitimately a kind person.
I let it drag on for over a month, simply because I felt bad, and AJ’s girlfriend was way too invested.
I knew he wanted to make her happy, so I just went along with it.
On our last date, she surprised me and came to my house.
I was confused when the doorman had called up to tell me I had a visitor.
AJ, that fucking bonehead, had given her my address because he thought I’d like to be surprised by the beautiful girl I supposedly liked.
And a surprise it was. She walked in wearing a white wrap dress and matching strappy heels, and soon after I let her inside, she unwrapped and dropped the dress to the floor.
She was wearing a white lace teddy and garters.
She was an utter fucking angel and looked like a lingerie model.
But when she walked over to me, my stomach dropped with every click of her heels on the hardwood floor.
Even with her heels, I had to bend down to let her kiss me.
And I did let her. I had let her before.
I felt too bad not to, and I kept hoping something would change, that I’d grow to like her in more than a friendly way.
When I didn’t get hard, even when she pressed into me and stroked me over my athletic pants, she seemed concerned at first, but when she looked up into my eyes, the concern turned to sadness.
Tears welled up in her pretty amber eyes.
She could tell that I was a lost cause. I didn’t know how to tell her it wasn’t anything to do with her.
The whole “it’s not you, it’s me” thing didn’t help.
I realized too late that I shouldn’t have led her on out of concern for hurting her feelings.
She left my place in tears, and that doorman hasn’t treated me the same since. I’m sure he thinks I was mean to her. Maybe I was. I tried to be direct, but gentle. Turns out I’m shit at explaining myself.
Maybe I’m missing whatever biological or neurological component that makes you connect with other people on a deeper level. It’s just not in my nature to open myself up to other people. There are few people in my life that I’ve felt truly close to, and aside from Shawna, they’re all related to me.
And then there’s Jesse. It doesn’t make sense how connected I feel to him.
Even with Shawna, it took until the sixth grade for me to warm up to her.
I took one look at Jesse and swooned like some kind of cartoon damsel falling in love at first sight.
I can feel the fucking hearts in my eyes when I let my guard down.
Luckily, he’s probably used to people looking at him like that and probably doesn’t notice.
I mean, not only is he famous, but he’s gorgeous, and has this effervescent quality about him.
He doesn’t just light up a room, he outshines the stadium lights he performs under night after night. He's extraordinary.
How can someone–especially someone so different from me, with this big, public life that I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole–burrow so fully into me with zero effort?
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Jesse’s voice is rough with sleep, the gravelly tenor resonating in my sternum.
I look down at where he’d rested his head on my shoulder and see him gazing up at me. His smile catches the dim light flickering from the battery-operated candles still scattered all over the suite.
Instead of answering, I bend my head down and kiss him.
It’s a gentle, light touch of lips, followed by the barest flicker of tongue.
The electricity that shoots through me from that one touch makes my breath catch.
He reaches up and cups my jaw, then slides his hand around to the back of my neck.
I follow the pressure of his reach and roll over his body, deepening the kiss.
He writhes into me, and our cocks harden with the friction of rubbing ourselves together.
I reach for the bottle of lube on the headboard and pump some into my palm, before wrapping my hand around both our cocks the way Jesse did in the jacuzzi tub earlier today.
I love feeling our cocks pressed together, especially when I can feel the pulse of Jesse’s release.
“Luc?”
I lift my face from the crook of his neck and smile down at him. He looks earnest and maybe the slightest bit sad or worried. I can’t quite read it.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“Nothing could be wrong in the world right now. I just want you.” He leans up and licks along the column of my neck to my ear. “Inside me.”
My lips part on an exhale, and he uses it to his advantage, licking into my mouth. He knows I’m weak if that tongue is involved. The things he does to me with that thing.
Is this going to be too much? Maybe. Am I still going to do it?
How can I not?
Even after lying here in the dark, agonizing over all the reasons this relationship can’t work, I can’t say no to him. I can’t say no to myself.
Every part of me wants to be wrapped up in every part of him.
Releasing our cocks, I reach up for another pump of lube, then lower my lubed fingers to rub against his hole.
He’s still soft and a little slick inside from the multiple times we’ve touched and played in the last twenty-four hours.
Two fingers slide in easily, and he clenches around them. God, to feel that around my cock again.
Jesse lets out a low moan and writhes, rocking against my hand as I work them in and out, spreading my fingers to open him. I lean down to flick my tongue over the barbell in his nipple, then suck it into my mouth as I add a third finger.
“Luc, please,” he whines.
Pulling my fingers from his body, I trail my kisses up his neck, across his jaw, to his soft, pleading mouth.
The way he looks right now is something I want to commit to memory–eyes dark with lust, lips parted, disheveled hair spread out on the pillow.
I want the image burned into the back of my eyes so I can see him this way every time I close my mind.
It’s hard to look away from him for even a moment, but I have to if I want to get inside him, and if I don’t soon, we might both combust. I reach for the box of condoms sitting just behind the lube and end up struggling with it.
It takes me far too long to get the box out of the impenetrable shrink wrap, and then the damn thing is welded shut with a baffling amount of clear stickers that are impossible to see in this light.
Why does this stupid box have more security than prescription drugs? Shouldn’t this be easier to get into?
I’m just about to rip the whole thing in half like a gym bro with a phonebook when Jesse takes it out of my hands.
“Let me help with that,” he says through a laugh and pushes himself up to sitting.
I lean back on my heels and watch him use a knife from the snack plate we ate and set aside earlier. That was smart. Not being able to think past my throbbing dick is just another example of how gone I am.
“I guess I should have thought ahead a little better. It took three days to even talk myself into getting them. I wanted to be prepared, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous,” he says, finally releasing the spoils of my battle with the cardboard and tearing one open.
Does he not keep them around?
He notices my confusion and answers my unspoken question. “I’ve had a bit of a dry spell, but I always use protection, I’m on PrEP, and I get tested regularly.”
I nod my understanding, distracted by his touch as he rolls the condom down my shaft, then realize this is the part where I’m supposed to share my status in return.
Should we have done this before swallowing so much of each other’s cum?
Hell, six years ago I didn’t give it one bit of consideration before or after.
Jesus. I guess it’s too late for that now.
“Um, me too. I mean– I get regular health checks, and I’ve never had sex without protection. And it’s also been a minute.” And by a minute I mean six years.
Jesse leans forward and kisses me while his hand coats me with lube.
He uses my cock like a joystick, guiding me to sit.
He climbs in my lap and sinks down, his hot, tight body enveloping my cock and pulling a long, deep moan from both of us.
When he’s fully seated, his arms wrap around my neck, legs around my waist. We stay like that, just kissing and touching, barely rocking together until neither of us can stand it anymore, and we have to move.
Wrapping my arms tightly around his middle, I help guide him while his strong, lean muscles use my waist as leverage to ride me slowly.
The whole time, his mouth never leaves mine.
It's intense. It feels fucking amazing, but this is so much more than sex. The slow glide of his body, the sweat slicking our skin between us, the desperate way we hold on to each other, the gasps and cries that echo in the room… It’s powerful.
Way too soon, I’m crying out a warning into Jesse’s mouth. He answers with his own cries, body tightening, and I know I can’t hold on. Keeping one arm wrapped around him to hold him close, I move the other to his ass, keeping him steady as I switch positions, laying him on his back.
With Jesse’s legs looped tight around my hips, I prop myself on one forearm, holding myself steady above him. My palm cups the back of his head, thumb stroking through his hair, while my free hand caresses down his body to wrap around his cock. I roll my hips, thrusting in long, slow, firm strokes.
Jesse’s moans and little cries increase until he’s calling my name. And I swear, nothing other than the sound of him singing to me sounds sweeter.