Chapter 20 #2
Huffing, Alex set down the cheese grater and stalked down the hall. Whoever was interrupting his Valentine’s Day with Mitch was about to get his ass kicked.
Alex checked the peephole before opening the door. “Yager. What are you doing here?”
Hands on his hips, eyebrows pulled together, huge shoulders outlined by the porch light, Yager would be scary standing there on Alex’s doorstep in the dark if Alex didn’t know him.
“Hello to you too,” Yager said, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. “Would it kill you to check your text messages? When you said your boyfriend was coming to visit, I didn’t think that meant you’d cut off contact with the rest of humanity.”
There was a squeak from the kitchen. Mitch better not have burned himself on something.
“Is there an emergency?” Alex dug his phone out of his pocket to find that yes, he did have a dozen missed texts from Yager, all of them of the dude-where-the-fuck-are-you variety.
“Are you going to let me in? It’s cold.”
Alex rolled his eyes but opened the door wider and moved out of the way. The Canadian and the native Floridian had vastly different opinions about what cold meant.
“You remember that bookshelf I bought at Walmart?” Yager said. “It’s too big. Doesn’t fit in the corner I wanted to put it in. You want it?”
“Seriously, this is your emergency?”
Yager’s face took on the expression of a kicked puppy. “Today’s the last day to return it.”
“Of course, it is. Yeah, I’ll take it.”
“Awesome. It’s in the truck. Come help me—oh. Hey, you must be Mitch.” He stuck his big hand out to Mitch, who was hovering a foot behind Alex. “Good to meet you. I’m Ashton Yager.”
“I…know,” Mitch said in awe, shaking Yager’s hand.
Yager whacked Alex on the chest with the back of his hand. “Come help me get the shelf.” He turned and headed for his truck parked on the street.
Mitch grabbed Alex’s wrist. “You didn’t tell me you’re friends with pro players.”
Alex peered at Mitch in confusion. “Honey, I am a pro player.”
“You go make dinner.” Mitch turned Alex around and gave him a slight smack on the butt. “I’ll go help your friend.”
Shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation, Alex went back to the kitchen.
The Alfredo sauce was simmering, the pasta was cooking, and the sliced chicken breast was browning by the time Mitch and Yager had not only lugged the box upstairs to the loft, but unpacked it and assembled the shelf.
When they came down, Alex had a beer for each of them waiting on the island.
They sat on the L-shaped couch perpendicular to each other while Alex set the table for two, letting them get to know each other.
If Mitch was going to be in his life, he should get to know his friends, even the ones Alex wanted to bean with a hockey stick for interrupting their night.
“What’s it like to have sex with a dude?” Yager asked.
Mitch kicked his feet onto the coffee table. “What’s it like to have sex with a girl?” he countered.
Yager scratched the scruff on his chin. “Huh. You know, I thought I was bi once.”
“You…” Mitch met Alex’s eyes over Yager’s head. Alex shrugged.
“Yeah, there was a maybe guy once,” Yager said.
“A maybe guy?”
Yager grunted his affirmative. “Guy I could’ve had something with but it didn’t work out.
Because reasons. It was a long time ago, before I met my now ex-wife, when I spent a summer working in New York.
He kind of looked like you, actually.” Yager gestured at Mitch with his beer.
“Hair all curly and cute and soft.” He tugged a lock of Mitch’s hair.
Scowling at the back of Yager’s head, Alex considered pouring the pot of boiling water on it. But that’d be mean, right? He had to hand it to Mitch, though. The man didn’t appear phased at all by the conversation as he swatted Yager’s hand away.
“And no one since then?” he asked.
“Nope. Must mean I’m straight, right?”
Mitch shrugged. “Only you can answer that.”
“Hmm. I’ll think on it some more.” Yager leaned back, one arm across the back of the couch, and sipped his beer. “Hey, Dean,” he called over his shoulder. “What are you making? Can I stay for dinner?”
The dual chorus of “No!” was enough to convince Yager to beat it.
* * *
Staring into the fridge after dinner cleanup, Alex considered the pros and cons of strawberry cheesecake for dessert, right after a filling cheesy dinner. He let the door slam shut. Probably not a good idea.
He took his shirt off instead.
“What…are you doing?” Mitch asked, standing on the other side of the island, his glass of water halfway to his mouth, forgotten. His eyes roamed Alex’s chest, catching on his nipples, his belly button.
Alex undid his belt, nerves kicking a path from his stomach all the way into his throat. “Getting naked.”
Mitch set his glass down, slowly, as if he thought Alex would run away—or put his clothes back on—if he moved too fast. “Not that I’m opposed, but…why?”
“Because I want to have sex now.” Alex stepped out of his shorts. “But I don’t know how to initiate it, so I figured if I got naked, you’d get the picture.”
Mitch swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That’s…not a bad strategy. One problem.” He came around the island and stood less than a foot from Alex. “You’re not hard.”
Alex erased the distance between them and ran his fingertips over Mitch’s unshaven jaw. “That’s because I’m not the type of gay guy who only has to think about dick and ass to get hard.”
“Uh-huh.” Mitch ran his hands up Alex’s sides, sending shots of pleasure rushing through Alex’s veins.
“The only dick and ass that get me hard,” Alex said against Mitch’s mouth, “are yours.” He kissed Mitch, and he didn’t take the time to tease or play. Instead, he swept right in, forcing Mitch’s mouth open, taking Mitch’s tongue, tilting Mitch’s head to get a better angle.
Mitch moaned and clutched at Alex’s back, fingernails surely leaving scratches.
Alex wrenched his mouth away and walked Mitch backward toward the bedroom.
“But it’s not just your dick and ass,” Alex said as they walked.
“It’s this.” He kissed Mitch’s temple. “Your smarts, your intuitiveness, your brain that never stops working. It’s this.
” He traced a heart with a fingertip over the left side of Mitch’s chest. “Your heart, your soul, who you are at the core. Insecure yet confident, sensitive, determined, fiercely loyal, kind. That’s what turns me on.
Not the way you look.” Mitch lay on the bed and Alex straddled his thighs.
“But I’m not going to lie. Your body—” He lifted off Mitch’s T-shirt. “—is a nice perk.”
“Alex.” Mitch’s whisper was ragged, and he fought with the zipper on his shorts. “Off.”
Alex helped, stripping Mitch of his shorts and underwear in one shot. He took in Mitch’s lightly haired, muscular thighs, his defined chest, the erection curving up toward his belly, hot and hard, the swollen purple head already leaking pre-come.
Gut clenching with desire, Alex took off his own underwear, freeing his now hard dick from its confines. Mitch whimpered and reached out a hand. “Gimme.”
Alex gave. One leg on either side of Mitch’s body, Alex made his way up Mitch’s chest and fed Mitch his dick.
From this vantage point, sitting atop Mitch, his forehead resting on the arm positioned on the back of the headboard, Alex could watch Mitch’s eyes go hot, watch his cock disappear into the perfect O of Mitch’s mouth.
Mitch’s tongue laved his head, probed his slit. Alex’s thighs clenched and he swore under his breath.
“Stop.” He ran a hand through Mitch’s hair. “I want to be in you when I come.”
Mitch gave one last suck, making Alex see stars, before letting him go with a grin. “You taste good.”
“Jesus.” Alex slid down Mitch’s body, tangling their legs. Their mouths met, open, wet, demanding, not giving an inch. Alex’s skin heated everywhere they touched, electricity sending shocks through him.
He got the lube, condoms, and a thin, nitrile glove out of the nightstand.
He’d done a lot of research and watched a lot of porn and was confident he knew how to prep Mitch so that he didn’t hurt him.
Truthfully, the research had been much more informative.
In fact, the porn had been completely useless except in serving to convince Alex that porn was completely unsexy.
The glove made a snap when he slipped it over his hand.
Mitch’s eyes went wide and he grinned. “Are we playing Naughty Doctor? Kinky.”
Alex snorted a laugh. He hadn’t expected to laugh during sex, but he should’ve anticipated it. This was Mitch, after all.
“I’ve heard,” Alex said, coating the fingers of his gloved hand in lube, “that there are a lot of nerves…right…here.” He traced Mitch’s hole, feeling it flutter under his thumb.
Mitch’s hips left the bed and he swore under his breath, all traces of mirth gone from his face. Alex used a hand on Mitch’s lower belly to keep him still, and let his thumb breach Mitch’s hole.
Mitch growled something under his breath that sounded like “Fucking finally,” then said, “Alex. Fuck, you’re taking forever.”
“Don’t want to hurt you,” Alex said. And because Mitch’s dick was right there, neglected, Alex bent his head and licked the underside, bottom to top.
Mitch threw his head back and moaned at the contact.
Fuck, he was beautiful, stretched out on the bed, flushed, eyes squeezed tight, legs wide, hands fisted in the bedcovers.
By the time Alex had inserted three fingers into him and was massaging the little nub of his prostate, Mitch was incoherent and chanting “Please, please, please,” over and over.