Chapter 33 #2
“Yeah, but, well, now...”
Pilot started pacing. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and set Tate off again. “Well, what?”
“I don’t know. I guess I figured you wouldn’t want me around after that tantrum, but I, uh, I miss you.”
“Fuck, Tate. I miss you, too, of course I want you around. Why the hell’d you get so mad?”
“I just, it’s just, damn. This just means so much to me. More than anything.”
“I understand, but Tate? No matter what happens with Bryce, you and I have to be good. Right? We’re okay. We’ll be okay.”
“I know, but I want him to come home.”
Pilot growled a bit. “I want you to come home, too.”
Tate didn’t answer.
Pilot was not going to leave things hanging with Tate. That could not even happen. “Have you already checked in to the hotel?”
“Yes.” His voice was soft and timid as if afraid Pilot would be mad.
“Okay. Text me the address.”
“Why?”
“I’m not letting you stay there alone. I’m coming up there. And Tate?”
“Yeah?”
“You better be naked when I get there.”
Tate disconnected the call and quickly texted the hotel information to Pilot. Then he stood there, staring at his phone, wondering what had just happened. The highs and lows of the day exhausted him and he wanted to crash, but Pilot was on his way. He would be there soon enough.
He dashed for the shower and prepped himself.
He wanted to be ready for Pilot. Every second that passed had his body humming with anticipation.
He leaned over the bathroom counter and fingered himself, using long lubed strokes.
His cock slapped hard against his stomach.
He needed Pilot. Hell, Pilot would have already been pounding his ass if he hadn’t acted like such a brat.
A long, low groan involuntarily left his mouth.
It felt so good, but not as good as Pilot’s cock would feel.
He slowed down and went back to the main room.
He pulled the bedspread and top sheet off the bed and stretched out on his stomach.
He’d have to get up for Pilot, but he had a few more minutes.
Tate closed his eyes and thought about Bryce.
He hoped they could work things out with him, but even if they didn’t, he’d still be there for him as a friend if nothing else, and Pilot was right, their relationship would be okay either way.
Well, as long as Tate stopped acting like a little bitch about things.
Pounding on the door had Tate leaping up and sprinting across the room. He looked out the peephole and saw Pilot’s broad chest. He opened the door, standing behind it so Pilot could come in without the entire world seeing Tate’s naked ass.
Pilot slammed the door behind him and threw the metal latch closed to keep anyone else out. “I really don’t like the tantrums, Tate. You’re better than that. You’re not a child.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“When you’re upset, we can talk about it. You can tell me anything. I expect you to.”
Tate nodded and sucked his top lip into his mouth.
Pilot touched his mouth with his fingers, and pulled the lip back out. “That’s mine.”
“Okay.”
“I’m glad you listened to me.” Pilot wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed Tate’s waist, pulling him closer. He kissed Tate, gently, and then sucked that top lip into his mouth. “Yeah, good. Get on the bed.”
Tate rushed to comply with Pilot’s commands, and crawled up on the bed on his hands and knees. He could hear the clang of Pilot’s belt as he unfastened it then pulled it from the loops. Tate’s breath came in shallow pants as his heart rate sped up. “Hurry up.”
“No. Turn around and face the wall. And wait.”
Tate did as Pilot commanded. He kind of liked Pilot bossing him around, liked the pounding of his heart as he waited. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He waited.
Smack! Pilot’s belt came down hard across his ass.
It didn’t really hurt, just stung a bit and sounded worse than it felt.
Pilot did it again, the loop of leather ringing out as it hit flesh.
The third time, Tate grunted. “I have to ride tomorrow. Please, enough.” The sting on his ass made his dick extremely hard and his balls pulled up tight.
“Then I’ll pound your ass another way.”
As soon as he slid inside Tate’s hole, the burn and stretch took all of Tate’s concentration.
His world narrowed down to this one moment, feeling and needing and gasping for air.
Pilot overwhelmed him with muscle and skin and sweat.
Pilot’s earthy aftershave combined with the heady scent of sex and want swept over him, engulfed him.
He cried out, a noise that had no words, yet carried a ton of meaning.
Pilot draped his big body over Tate’s and nuzzled under his ear. He whispered, “I’ve got you.” The softness and caring of his voice contrasted with the aggressive thrusts of his hips and pelvis. Pilot used his powerful legs to rock into Tate and his strong arms to wrap abound Tate’s body.
The angle changed as Pilot shifted his hips and fucked rhythmically into Tate.
His cock brushed across Tate’s spot with each stroke, sending him higher, Tate’s moaning rising in octave along with the added pressure.
The promise of an orgasm had just started tingling through him when Pilot stopped, pulled out and flipped Tate over.
They stared at each other for a moment. Tate lost himself in the depths of Pilot’s dark eyes, and for that one moment, nothing else existed but his love and want reflected in Pilot’s intense gaze.
Pilot looked away first, but his eyes lowered just enough to watch his cock sliding back into Tate’s hole, before returning to his face.
“I love you. So much, Tate.” Pilot laced their fingers together and pulled them above Tate’s head.
Barely moving, Pilot rolled his hips in a subtle wave. Tate couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Every nerve ending fired. “Sean!” He came hard, shaking and trembling, his load squishing between their sweaty bodies.
Pilot grunted and jabbed in with quick bursts, until his body froze up and Tate could see the cords in his throat straining. “Gah! Tate.”
He collapsed on top of Tate, and for once, Tate didn’t mind his weight at all. He welcomed it, feeling safe and loved and cherished, but he wanted that same feeling for Bryce too, and his absence still felt like a gaping hole between them.
“I’ll fix it. I promise.” Pilot seemed to know exactly what Tate had been thinking.
The next morning, Tate had Pilot up at the crack of dawn.
He needed to practice, but wanted Pilot to stay with him, so he made a few quick arrangements and just after eight a.m., he and Pilot headed to the track.
Pilot helped get the bike off the truck and on the track, but Tate had the staff bring out another bike.
It wasn’t race quality, but it would do.
“What the hell’s this?” Pilot growled.
“Ha. A bike, you know what a bike is? Right, Pilot?”
“Okay, sass-mouth, who is the extra bike for? You don’t think I’m getting on that death-stick?”
Tate pushed the bike over to him. “Yes. You’re getting on this fine machine.” He added with a whisper, “Don’t talk about her that way. She might be touchy.”
Pilot shook his head, but grabbed the handle bars of the bike. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
“Ha! You love me, anyway.”
Pilot leaned in and kissed Tate’s forehead. “Yeah, yeah. I love you. Now, show me how to work this thing.”
After spending a few minutes talking about the bike and giving Pilot a decent tutorial on riding, Pilot felt ready to ride.
“Wait.” Tate pointed over to the small trailer that stood near the track and posed as an office of some sort. “Go in there and get some gear on. You can’t ride like that.”
Pilot picked up his booted foot to say that he had protection, but Tate shook his head.
“Not good enough. Jeans aren’t good enough and you need under armor and a helmet and goggles.
They’ll have shit in there.” He waved Pilot over to the trailer.
He couldn’t wait to see Pilot decked out in riding gear, but he worried they might not have pants big enough for him.
If they didn’t, he’d have to order some special, because he really wanted to see that ass in a pair of riding pants.
A few minutes later, Pilot came back out. He wore the boots and a jersey over some chest armor, and he had a helmet under one arm. He flicked goggles back and forth in his other hand. He wore his own jeans. “They didn’t have pants to fit me.”
“Well, you can’t jump. You’ll have to take it kinda slow. I’ll let you get the hang of it, but then I need to practice. We’ll order you some pants.”
Pilot lifted one eyebrow.
“If you like it. Come on.”
After a little bit of riding back and forth and going slowly over a few bumps, Pilot seemed to have the hang of the basics, so Tate stopped him. “I have to ride now. Did you like it?”
“It’s cool. Maybe, uh, maybe we can order some pants and other gear.” He pulled off his goggles and helmet and smiled up at Tate. “That was pretty fun. I want to go faster.”
“I’d love to be able to ride with you and Bryce. You know, just for fun.” Tate looked down at the dirt and dug his toe in. “Do you think we’ll get him back, Pilot?” He started to tear up, and swallowed it back, choking on the emotion.
Pilot laid the bike down in the dirt and put his helmet and goggles down beside it, before walking over to Tate and pulling him into his arms. Their chest protectors bumped against each other.
It didn’t matter, because Pilot’s arms still reached around him and his lips still kissed Tate’s forehead and his cheek and his lips.
“We’ll do whatever we have to. We’ll try. That’s all we can do.”
“Love you, Pilot.”
“Love you, too. Now go. Put it out there on the track like you do, then when we get home, we’ll have ice cream.”