The Quarterback by Tal Bauer
Chapter Fifteen
What the fuck?What the fuck had he done?
Nick white-knuckled the steering wheel and gunned the accelerator. He wanted to drown out his thoughts with the roar of the road, the whine of the engine. Wanted to go so fast and so far that his thoughts blurred like the landscape and he could leave behind what he’d done and never, ever have to think about it again.
But he couldn’t, because Colton was right there next to him.
Fuck, what had he done?
Colton sat slumped in the front seat, back bowed, wrapped around his right arm with his forehead dug into the passenger window frame. He looked like Nick was driving him to his execution.
This wasn’t the lost-little-boy look from a few months ago. This was something different, something far worse. Colton hadn’t looked this dejected, this downright heartbroken, even when he’d been in the hospital after his surgery.
What the fuck had he done to Colton?
His memories were like confetti, glittering in and out of focus as the night wore on. He hadn’t drunk that much, though. It was… something else. Tiredness? He’d been going full speed for a while. Everything seemed to be going so well. Kimbrough was happy. The account was running smoothly. The install and tests were working without hiccups. Everything was on track. Colton was phenomenal, outshining all the successes of the launch. Yeah, the first private mobile network for a remote off-site operation was going online without a hitch, but Colton—God, Colton was on fire. He’d been prouder of Colton kicking ass than he had been of his own tech. He was celebrating. He was happy.
Brad’s bar. A dozen smiling couples surrounding them with their own happiness. With a lightness of being, with the flirty casualness of a summer night. Everything that had been crawling through his veins all summer long, since he’d first started spending time with Colton. Possibility, potentiality. The what-if a future that lay just out of sight. Young ambition, young passion. He’d felt it like he’d shot twenty-two years old straight into his heart.
Colton kissed him. He remembered that. Remembered the feel of his lips, the scratch of his stubble. Remembered the shock, too. What was Colton doing?
“I’m confused,” he finally said, over the hum of the tires. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d left the hotel and he’d roared out of the Houston city limits. His voice was raw, ragged. He cleared his throat.
Colton turned those big, terrible, melting eyes to him.
“You’re not gay, Colton.” There’d be no reason for him to hide that. Not after last season, and Wes and Justin. He wouldn’t have to hide that from anyone, and even if he wanted to be discreet, he still could have told them. They would have kept his secret. Besides, Colton had talked about girls—about finding one, or not finding one, and about how hard it was for him to understand women. To connect with them. I understand Wes and Justin. I understand falling in love with a guy. Nick flinched.
“I’m not gay.” Colton traced the rubber seal on the window frame with his index finger. “Maybe I’m bi? I don’t know. I’m not attracted to men like Wes and Justin are.”
Nick’s eyes darted to Colton and then back to the road.
“’Cept I’m attracted to you.” Colton’s voice dropped. It wavered. “You know, it’s not fair. Girls can sleep with other girls and say they’re experimenting, or that it’s just one part of who they are, and the world doesn’t think twice. They aren’t fixed into a label and told, ‘Now you’re this, forever,’ because of a few hookups. But guys, you know. If you mess around with one guy, the whole world says, ‘You’re gay now.’ Or you’re bi, at least.” Colton sighed. “But I’m not. I’m not attracted to guys like that. I just fell for one person. Why does it matter if they’re a guy or a girl?” He glared at the road.
Nick let that settle for a dozen miles. “So this is new? Are you… experimenting?”
“It’s not that.”
Nick shifted. His knuckles tightened. Another ten miles roared by.
He’d never been attracted to a man. He’d never thought about a man that way. Though he’d been married, so he’d never really thought about attraction to anyone other than his wife. Ex-wife. Marriage was comfortable, and he’d been content. He had his love for this life, he’d thought. If his eyes occasionally recognized a beautiful woman, he never let the thought sink into his mind.
And he’d never looked at a man. Not with lust. Not with attraction.
He tried to assess Colton out of the corner of his eye. Colton was handsome. Anybody—everybody—could see that. He was astonishingly good looking, with strong features, a defined face, bright eyes. His smile could power an electric plant. His body was a work of art, sculpted muscles and a tight physicality that screamed of his dedication to athletics and to football. Colton was, in every sense of the word, a catch.
Not Nick’s catch, though. Because Nick wasn’t gay. Or bi.
Colton’s body pressed against his, smooth skin and those hard, defined muscles against his chest. A thick thigh between his own, so different from the soft skin he’d known before. Cynthia had been all curves and give. Colton’s body was like a blade, so hot and sharp against his.
He shook his head. Tried to push the memory away.
Colton shuddering in his arms. Colton’s skin against his. Colton’s lips against his. Colton’s lips on his nipple, his chest, his—
He almost drove off the road. He jerked the wheel, righted the car. Put another twenty miles between him and the memory.
“What do you want from me?” The words had been bouncing around inside him. What had happened had happened, but what did it mean? What did Colton want it to mean?
Colton sagged in the passenger seat. His face twisted and then smoothed. Twisted again. He pursed his lips. Scrunched one eye. Then exhaled, and his expression went back to the mask he’d worn at the hospital when he was trying to be brave. “I kind of thought it was obvious what I wanted.”
“Sex? A one-night stand?”
“No,” Colton whispered. “I wanted to wake up and see you smiling at me. I wanted to kiss you good morning. I want to reach over there and hold your hand right now, like I’ve dreamed about doing—”
“You’ve dreamed about me?”
“I’ve dreamed so fucking much about you. And I thought, last night, that this was starting to go where my dreams were. That we were on the same page and we wanted the same things.” He inhaled, blew it out in one big breath. “I thought you wanted me, too.”
“Jesus,” Nick whispered. “Colton…”
“I fucked everything up, didn’t I?”
Silence filled the car. Filled the highway, even. Filled what felt like the whole world. Colton turned away and stared out the window.
What could Nick say to that? He didn’t know. Things felt pretty fucked up. Panic made his heart race, made his palms sweat, tied his stomach in huge knots. He’d thought he was having a heart attack, earlier. Thought he was going to throw up as he crouched in the shower and stared at the drain. He thought he’d hurt Colton, used him somehow. He couldn’t imagine, when he’d opened his eyes, what had led to the two of them naked together, tangled in each other’s arms.
His memories had come back in fractured chunks, like he was too shocked to remember all at once, and that had done nothing for the guilt he was drowning in.
I’ve dreamed so fucking much about you. And I thought, last night, that this was starting to go where my dreams were.
He hadn’t hurt Colton last night, but he sure was hurting him now, it seemed.
I thought we were on the same page, wanted the same things. I thought you wanted me, too.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Colton. Of course he liked Colton. He cherished their time together, had been hungry for more of it, so much that he’d invited Colton to live with him for the summer. He invited Colton to come with him on these trips not only because he wanted Colton to have the work experience, but because he’d been greedy and he wanted Colton around.
Colton… made him feel good. Being with Colton felt like being near a perpetual sunrise. And Colton understood him in a fundamental way. Who else would have taken him to that winery? Who else would have known that he needed something like that, something wonderful, exactly that day? He’d opened up parts of himself to Colton that he hadn’t in years—decades, even. He wasn’t just Nick the businessman or Nick the father or Nick the football fan. When Colton was around, he was the Nick he was when he was alone, when no one was watching. The real Nick. And Colton seemed to like that guy.
He seemed to like that Nick a lot. I’ve fallen for you.
A part of him craved Colton’s presence. A part of him, clearly, thought Colton was pretty damn sexy and attractive, too. Had all these parts been inside him all along? He thought he was a pretty self-aware guy, but waking up naked next to a man had a way of showing you your blind spots.
What did he feel for Colton?
How could he answer that? What he felt was so tangled and deep it couldn’t be parsed into individual emotions. He cared for Colton. Wanted him around all the time. Wanted to hear his laugh and listen to his thoughts and see his dimple-stretched smile.
He’d been excited, in a petty way, when Colton kept wanting to spend time with him instead of going out to pick up girls. Colton was a young, hot-blooded man. It made perfect sense for him to go out. It made far less sense when he stayed in with Nick every night, drinking wine and talking before playing PlayStation or watching Netflix.
He’d loved that. Loved every minute of it.
Because that’s what you did when you were married. You rebuilt your married life with Colton, you jackass.
Is that what he’d done? He tried to contrast, then and now, remembering the rhythm of his days when he was in Dallas and the rhythm of his days now. He’d liked being married—ultimately, not to Cynthia, but he’d liked the completeness of being with another person. How his world was given to them, and their world was given over to him, and they made something new together. Sharing space, sharing time. Doubling love.
God, he had treated Colton like he was his spouse, in every way except the lovemaking. Which meant, on some level, he could see Colton as his partner. Hell, he was already living with Colton like he was his spouse. He’d already built a life that included Colton, a life that could spin on and on and on, one endless summer, the two of them in their own little world.
Is that what he wanted? Did he want what they had to last? An indefinable forever, the two of them continuing their… what? Friendship—even before last night—was too small a word. Relationship had too many connotations. Partnership was too dry.
His life with Colton. Or at least, the potential of a shared life. Because that’s what it was. That’s what they’d done—what he’d done. He’d drawn Colton into his world, built a life and asked Colton to join him. And Colton had, with his PlayStation and his football and his ties that he left all over the place. Colton had become a presence in his condo, turning the sterile loft into their home. Their home together, Colton as much part of the place as he was.
I’ve dreamed so fucking much about you. And I thought, last night, that this was starting to go where my dreams were. I thought we were on the same page, and we wanted the same things. I thought you wanted me, too.
What did he want? What did he want with Colton?
The thought made his mind stutter and jerk, skid to a halt as another man’s face slammed into his heart.
Justin.
He was already keeping too much from his son. What would Justin think about him asking Colton to move in with him, sleep in Justin’s bedroom? Or travel with him. Or give Colton responsibilities like he was a ten-year professional, his right-hand account executive. What would Justin say to any of that?
If Nick were another person, Justin might call him a dirty old man. A creeper. A cradle robber or an opportunist, swooping in on Colton, plucking his ripe peach before it hit the wide world.
But Nick hadn’t known he was doing that. He hadn’t known he was building a new life with Colton. And he’d never seduced Colton, never tried to tempt him. Last night, Colton kissed him first.
You kissed me back.
He had. He had kissed Colton back. And… he’d liked it.
A lot.
But Justin—
Damn it, had Justin thought of Nick when he and Wes got together? Had Nick been on his mind at all as he charted his future, fell in love with the man he chose? Why was Justin on Nick’s mind as he imagined his own future, as he thought about what could possibly be with Colton?
Wait, what? Was he really—
God, what would Justin say if he and Colton really did this? They were friends—
Nick groaned and grasped the wheel, jerking it forward and backward like he could shake the whole car. His foot pressed down, and the car jumped, roaring down the open highway. Next to him, Colton’s eyes slipped closed. Squeezed shut.
For miles, Colton had been staring out the passenger window and into the side mirror, watching the highway’s reflection spin on and on like he’d carved out his heart and left it behind at the side of the road and was now watching the miles build as they roared away from it. He had his left hand bunched up in the fabric of his shorts and closed in a fist, but that didn’t hide the way it was shaking.
Was his arm okay? Was his shoulder all right? How much pain was he in? How out of his mind had he been that he didn’t notice when Colton took his sling off? He wanted to rewind time, go back to that moment, tell Colton, “No, keep your sling on,” then kiss him, hold him, make love to him so nothing hurt in the morning—
He held his breath. Squeezed the wheel until his nails bit into the leather.
They’d slept together. He’d slept with a man. He’d slept with Colton.
Those thoughts felt different now, with time and some distance from waking up and wondering why he was naked. Seeing Colton’s kiss-bruised lips and naked body tangled with his own.
Would this have happened one day anyway? How long could they have lived together, before the affection they had for each other turned physical? Humans were physical creatures. They sought love in multiple ways, from the social to the mental to the emotional to the physical. He and Colton had worked their way through three before stumbling into the fourth. Was that just circumstance? Could he blame this all on proximity and the divorce? Or was there something about Colton?
Words Colton spoke earlier echoed through him like a pebble dropped into a deep lake, the ripples had finally reached the shores of his conscious mind. He, like Colton, wasn’t attracted to men. But he’d certainly had no problems building a shared life with Colton, setting up the runway of forever for the two of them. And when the moment came, he hadn’t turned away from the physical expression of that togetherness. He’d embraced it. He’d kissed Colton back.
There was definitely something about Colton.
He wasn’t gay, but he was attracted to Colton. As a person, as a human being, as a man. As a partner. As a potential lover, even.
Did he want to see where they could go? That was the question, wasn’t it? Was he brave enough to try?
What on earth would Justin think?
Justin’s face in his heart. Colton’s smile in his mind. The taste of Colton’s lips on his tongue.
He’d remember the touch of Colton’s lips, and his body, forever.
* * *
They madeit back to the condo an hour early. He’d been chewing up the miles and gunning his Porsche, his thoughts outpacing their drive.
He pulled into the garage and parked. Killed the engine. Silence overcame them like a tidal wave, drawing him down, stealing away the half-prepared speech he’d fumbled through for the last sixty miles.
Colton sighed. He shoved open the door and heaved himself out, then grabbed his duffel from the trunk. He held Nick’s duffel out without meeting Nick’s gaze.
Silence carried them into the elevator, deposited them on Nick’s floor. Walked with them down the hall and then filled the inside of the condo when Nick held the door open for Colton.
Colton walked inside and froze at the opening to the kitchen and the living room. His shoulders slumped, and his chin dropped, and he squeezed the handle of his duffel as he stood there like a forgotten child left behind at an airport.
Nick came up at an oblique angle from Colton as he strode into the kitchen. He dropped his duffel beneath the breakfast bar, tossed his keys and his wallet down, and then braced his hands against the cool stainless steel sink.
Colton’s presence was evident everywhere in the condo. Their shoes were lined up by the front door, sneakers and sandals and oxfords, two by two by two. Colton’s hoodie hung on a hook in the entranceway next to his own pullover. Both PlayStation controllers were on the couch, spilled sideways from the last time they’d played. The PlayStation was on the floor, cables snaking up the wall to where the TV was mounted and sideways to the power outlet. One long charge cable was plugged in, too, where Colton sometimes charged his phone when they were playing together.
Two wineglasses in the sink. A half-finished bottle of sweet summer red corked on the counter.
Colton’s ball cap, Colton’s truck keys—unused, collecting dust. Colton’s ties, one from Tuesday, one from last Friday, thrown over the back of his barstools.
We already have a life together. He’s already a part of my world.
His gaze slid to Colton. He watched the younger man’s jaw clench and hold, watched his Adam’s apple bob like a blade. Saw his lips twist and thin, then twist again. “I’ll, uh,” Colton started. “I’ll pack my stuff. I never realized I was such a slob.”
“You’re not a slob.”
Colton shrugged. “I’ll be out of here in an hour.”
Panic. Pain right through him, a knife to his chest. “Colton, wait. Don’t.”
“I can’t stay. Not after what happened.”
“Look, can we…” He had no idea how to ask this. “I don’t remember everything from last night. I wasn’t drunk, but I… Maybe it’s the shock of it all. I never thought—”
Colton’s head sank even lower. “I’m sorry,” he grunted. “I really thought you were into it. I thought you wanted it, too.”
“I think I did,” Nick said in a rush. “I think I did want it, and I think I liked it. I just…” He pushed off from the counter. His toes curled inside his shoes. “Can we try again? See if we…”
Colton’s head shot up, and he frowned as Nick spoke. “You want to experiment? With me?” He looked away. “I don’t know if I can do that with you.”
“No, not experiment…” His voice trailed off. Actually, that’s exactly what he’d thought. He wanted to try again and see if they could work, physically. What was that, other than an experiment? What if they got to the end and he said, “Well, nah, not really. Interesting experience, but nope.”
Colton would be hurt all over again.
“Okay, yes.” He squared his shoulders. “Yes, I want to try again, to see if maybe something physical between us can work. I don’t know if it can, but I’m willing to try and figure it out. And yes, that is experimenting. But, Colton, I don’t know what else to do.” He saw Colton flinch. Saw the muscles in his neck flex and hold, his traps like drawn bowstrings. Nick swallowed. “The choice is yours.”
He waited. Colton’s eyes closed. His chest heaved, and all his emotions flickered over his face. Desire and hunger and craving and fear, loneliness and hope and a wash of terror. He could leave right now. They could let this go.
Or they could step into a new, unknown future.
“Can you go first?” Colton finally whispered. “Because last night, I kissed you, and when you kissed me back, I thought that meant you wanted it, too. And I’m scared to kiss you right now, or touch you, because I’m afraid I pushed you, and that I might push you again—”
Nick closed the distance between them and took Colton’s face between his hands. Leaned in and closed his lips over Colton’s, hushed him with a kiss.
He thought he’d be tentative, sweet, chaste. He thought he’d let their lips linger. But Colton groaned and opened his mouth beneath Nick’s, and then their tongues were arcing together, and Nick’s fingers dug into Colton’s scalp as he deepened the kiss, as he chased Colton’s tongue with his own, as he bit down on Colton’s lower lip and moaned. He wanted more, so much more. He was trembling, he wanted it so much, and he wrapped his arms around Colton’s neck—
Colton’s hard cock brushed against his leg.
Nick shuddered and broke the kiss, pulling back to stare at Colton. Colton’s pupils were so huge Nick could fall into them. His lips were wet, swollen, his cheeks flushed. “Oh, fuck,” Nick breathed.
Colton went pale. He tried to pull away. “Stop,” he croaked. “Stop. You don’t want this. Forget it, forget about last night.”
“No,” Nick growled. He grabbed Colton’s cheek and pulled him back. “I don’t want to forget. And I don’t want to stop. I want you, Colton.”
He wanted Colton, all of Colton, right now.
Colton flew at him like he was on the line of scrimmage in the middle of a game. He slammed into Nick and backed him up until they hit the wall, hard enough that Nick bounced off and hit Colton’s chest, then the wall again. Colton caged him, his left arm bracketing Nick as he leaned in, as he captured Nick’s lips with his own in a hungry, demanding kiss.
Nick grabbed at Colton’s shirt and the waistband of his shorts. Tried to lift and lower at the same time and got nowhere. Colton groaned and pushed his hips against Nick’s, grinding his hard cock against Nick’s as his tongue tried to trace Nick’s molars.
“Can we,” Colton asked, pulling back only enough to breathe, “Can we keep my sling on? I know it’s not sexy—”
“Please keep your sling on.” Nick cupped his face. Cradled his jaw. “I’m mad at myself for letting you take it off last night. Was I careful with you, at least?”
“You’re always wonderful with me.” Colton kissed him. Kissed him again.
“I don’t want you to hurt because of me.”
Colton’s cheeks flushed. He swallowed, and he brushed his nose along Nick’s, pushed his forehead into Nick’s. “I hurt myself falling for you.”
Nick wound his arms around Colton’s neck and dragged him close, until their chests and their hips and their legs pressed together. Colton’s left hand dropped to his waist, slid to the small of his back. Wandered up under his T-shirt. His palm was huge, rough from so many years on the field, and each calloused fingertip ran up his spine, as if counting the knobs of his bones. He shivered into Colton’s touch, seized Colton’s lips with his own. Kissed him, hard, until they were sharing breaths.
He pushed off the wall and stepped toward his bedroom.
Colton got the hint, and he walked backward, his arm still around Nick’s waist, dragging Nick with him. Like they were dancing, but this time they were kissing, not twirling. Every step was made in sync, every move of hands and legs and arms drawing their bodies closer together.
Colton hit the edge of his bed and sank down to the mattress, his arm still wrapped around Nick. His left hand trailed down Nick’s back and his ass, coming to rest on the back of his thigh. Nick jerked against him, and his crotch brushed Colton’s face. His hands landed on Colton’s shoulders. Colton fumbled with his sling as he tried to pull off his T-shirt.
“Let me help,” Nick said. Colton’s hands were shaking when Nick covered them with his own.
They got the sling off and Colton’s shirt over his head, then slipped Colton’s sling back around his neck. Nick had never seen Colton in his sling and shirtless before, and where it might have looked goofy on another person, nothing could take away from Colton’s attractiveness. He seemed uncertain, though, so Nick pushed him gently to the mattress and straddled his lap. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, then kissed him.
Colton ran his hand up Nick’s back. “You’re pretty fucking hot, yourself.”
“For an old guy?”
“No.” Colton’s palm dropped to his ass and squeezed. “I’ve had so many dreams about seeing your body, but you are way hotter in real life.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been dreaming about me.”
Colton’s gaze knifed away as a flush rose across his cheekbones. “I mean—”
He cut off Colton’s nerves with another kiss, moving his lips over Colton’s until Colton groaned and sank into Nick’s mattress, the tension ebbing out of him.
Everything became liquid, sensation and Colton filling Nick’s world. His thoughts were reduced to Colton and Yes and More. Colton’s smooth, hard chest moving beneath his hairy one. Colton’s hard nipples grinding against his. He ran his hand up Colton’s side and cupped his pec, almost like he would cup a woman’s breast, but instead of softness, there was Colton’s firm body. He thumbed Colton’s nipple, dragged his nail across the nub. Colton bucked against him and groaned into their never-ending kiss.
He sat back on Colton’s lap and let his hands wander across the expanse of Colton’s body. Colton breathed hard and gazed up at him like he was a fish out of water, wide-eyed and gulping down air. His left hand clutched at Nick’s jeans, kneaded his thigh.
Last night, Colton had put his mouth on Nick. Nick had to think long and hard to remember the last time he’d gotten a blow job before that. It had felt wonderful, like fire and ice colliding, wet heat and perfection. And it had been Colton, which made the whole thing a thousand times more intense.
He slithered down Colton’s legs, grabbing Colton’s waistband as he went. He tugged, and Colton lifted his ass, and then he was naked, exposed to Nick. His hard cock jutted upward, so thick and firm it arched all the way toward his belly. Precome wept onto the taut skin below his belly button.
Nick tossed Colton’s shorts behind him and knelt between Colton’s spread legs. If he’d thought Colton was breathing hard before, that was nothing compared to this. Colton’s eyes were huge, his lips parted, breath coming like he was in the middle of a no-huddle game. “Nick,” he gasped. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” Nick ran his hands up Colton’s trembling thighs and swept his thumbs into the dips between Colton’s hips and his crotch where his skin was pale, where his pubes went thin and merged with the hair on his legs. Nick had never been this near another man’s hard cock before, but it was more or less the same as his own, albeit from a different angle. And more than his own, if he was being honest. Colton was a big boy, in every sense of the word.
What would that cock feel like in his mouth?
“Yeah, but,” Colton stammered, “if that’s gonna be something you end up not liking, I’d rather you just don’t. If all you want is to kiss some, make out a little, I’m fine with that—”
“Colton.” He rose up, sliding along Colton’s naked body, pressing them together from thighs to chest. Colton keened, pushing his cock against Nick’s jeans-covered crotch. Nick kissed him, his tongue stroking over Colton’s before sucking it into his mouth, like he was about to do to Colton’s cock. Colton made a high-pitched, strangled sound and grabbed Nick’s ass with his free hand.
Nick broke the kiss and nuzzled Colton’s cheek. “I don’t treat my lovers like that,” he breathed. Lovers. Like he’d had so many. Three in his life, including Colton last night. “I’m not interested in taking more than I give. That’s not who I am. Besides…” He nipped at Colton’s quivering lower lip. “I was thinking about sucking your dick for half the drive.”
Another moan, and Colton dug his fingers into Nick’s ass. “I’m not gonna last long.”
“Then I’ll just make you hard again.” Nick kissed his way down Colton’s chest, biting his jaw and his collarbone and his belly button before kneeling between Colton’s spread thighs.
Bold words. A tremor of trepidation ran through him as he came face-to-face with Colton’s weeping, hard cock. He blinked. Reached out and wrapped his hand around the shaft.
Colton jerked. “Nick—”
Bold words called for bold action. He wrapped his lips around Colton’s cock head and sucked.
Colton grabbed the bedsheet, clawed at the mattress. One leg trembled, and the other shot straight out. He chanted Nick’s name, his voice going from shock to what sounded like choked sobs as Nick sucked more and more of Colton’s cock into his mouth. He couldn’t get all of Colton past his lips. Hell, he couldn’t even get half. But he stroked Colton off below the high-water mark of his lips, humming as he tried to increase the suction.
What did he like, the rare times he’d gotten a blow job? Suction, movement. Speed.
He sped up, sucking harder. Tightened his hand. He remembered that, from last night. Harder. Squeeze. Colton liked his thumb going over the head. He sucked, ran his tongue around and around Colton’s head, then sucked again, hard—
“Nick!” Colton levitated off the bed, ass squeezing, only his heels and his shoulders touching the mattress. “I’m—” His come exploded into Nick’s mouth, hot jets of it as his legs went rock hard and his hand bounced from the mattress to Nick’s shoulder to his hair, fingers curling and uncurling before he slapped the bed like a wrestler tapping out. “Nick, Nick,” he panted. His hips thrust into Nick’s mouth, chasing his orgasm.
Nick swallowed, swallowed again. That was a first. Different than when a woman came against his lips. He hummed as he swallowed, as he sucked Colton’s softening shaft and lapped up his orgasm. He could get used to that. He could easily get used to it. Especially the way Colton moaned his name. There was something intoxicating about making someone you cared for orgasm. And he’d liked doing it. Maybe not enough to try sucking off more guys, but he liked sucking Colton’s cock.
Colton tried to grab him and haul him up. His hand was limp, his arm as strong as boiled spaghetti. Nick laced their fingers together, then kissed each of Colton’s knuckles. He reached for his own fly and unbuttoned his jeans, then shoved them and his boxers down his hips, scissoring out of his pants as he crawled back up Colton’s body.
Colton looked like he’d just been at ground zero of a bomb blast. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and his chest shuddered with every ragged inhale. His gaze slowly focused on Nick as Nick balanced over him.
He rocked his hips against Colton’s, pushing his hard cock into Colton’s belly. Colton tried to scoot down the mattress. “Just put your hand on me,” Nick whispered. “I want to kiss you when I come. And I’m close.” Colton nodded, and he wrapped his rough palm around Nick’s cock and stroked as Nick pressed their lips together. Colton was still breathing hard, and his kiss was open-mouthed and slow. Nick wrapped his tongue around Colton’s and sucked on it like he’d just sucked Colton’s cock. Colton’s hand closed tighter around Nick.
He groaned into Colton’s mouth.
Colton jerked him harder, rougher, those calluses working him over, taking him apart, until it was his turn to close his eyes and grit his teeth and whimper Colton’s name. His orgasm slammed into him, come flowing between them, over Colton’s fist and onto Colton’s belly.
He caught his breath as he dipped his head to Colton’s chest, leaving a trail of kisses from Colton’s pec to the strap of his sling. He kissed his sling, too, right over his collarbone. Colton wiped his hand on the sheets, then set his palm gently on the small of Nick’s back. They stayed like that, their heartbeats slowing, breaths evening out, the sun traveling a full degree across his bedroom floor.
“So,” Colton finally said. His voice was rough. “How did your experiment go?”
Colton was trying to sound brave, and when Nick looked up, he saw Colton was trying to look brave, too. He’d schooled his features, had tried to mask the emotions in his eyes. But a tangled hunger bled out of him—and, more than that, fear. Colton swallowed as their gazes met.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever been with,” Nick said.
“Me, too. I’ve never done anything like this before. Never even thought about it.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Me, either.” Colton shrugged. “I watched some gay porn. That was kinda educational. It helped my dreams, at least.”
Nick laughed. He kissed Colton’s chin, the tip of his nose.
“Maybe I could be the only guy you’re ever with.” Colton spoke softly, almost a whisper.
“I can’t imagine being in bed with any other man.” He couldn’t imagine being in bed with anyone else at all, really. He hadn’t since the separation, when he’d realized he and Cynthia would never make love again. He couldn’t think of her in that way, not after she’d said what she’d said, become who she’d become. And then he hadn’t been able to imagine anyone else in his bed or in his arms.
He could picture him and Colton, though. Hard, hot, sweaty nights, straining muscles and tangled lips. Colton, breathless and looking at him like he was right now.
“Are we— Are we going to do this?” Colton asked.
Hot nights were one thing. Living day to day was another. Living in the real world, where they were Colton and Nick, where they had jobs, friends… and families.
Justin’s face slammed into Nick’s heart again. God. What would he think about Nick sleeping with Colton? Not just his friend, but a man Justin’s own age?
He skirted that thought. It was too raw, made his skin curl up from the inside. Colton was more than his age, but that would be all some people saw. Dirty old man. Cradle robber. Never mind who Colton was, who he’d become to Nick. What they were, together.
Would Justin see any of that?
What would Justin say to Nick sleeping with a man? Nick, who’d never once shown a homosexual urge or inclination. Was there some point where he should have reached out to Justin about this? Asked Justin’s advice or told him he was approaching a major crossroads in his life and his identity? At the very least, said to him, “Hey, I’m thinking about taking Colton as my lover.”
When would that have been? Sometime between midnight and now, when all he could think about was how to hold himself and Colton together and keep Colton’s heart from blowing away on the Texas wind?
He hadn’t told Justin before, so he’d have to tell him after.
If he and Colton were going to do this.
What if this was just summer and sensation, Colton needing affection and care as he faced his own crucible, and what Nick had tried to provide him got twisted and knotted somehow and now they were here? What if, in a few weeks, Colton worked this out of his system and they went back to being friends? Awkward friends, maybe, but friends. Who the hell was Nick, compared to football and the NFL and Colton’s glittering future?
Maybe this was a fling. Something the world never needed to know about, because it would hurt Colton if they did. Should Colton be punished for a few weeks of intoxicating sex, if they were just moments in his life? Or should this stay secret? From everybody?
He kissed Colton again, his lips lingering, then deepening, against Colton’s. What could this be between them? What did he want it to be?
What if what he wanted outgrew what Colton wanted?
“Can we take it day by day?” he asked softly.
Colton nodded and squeezed his hand so tight it hurt. He kissed Nick, smiling—beaming—as the hand holding Nick’s started to shake.
He kissed Colton back and tried to push Justin out of his mind. Just for a little longer. Just until he figured out what to do.