Ex-Daredevil by Zoe Lee
Chapter 32
Eliott
My body was shivering with desire, my chest pressing deep into my mattress while one knee was drawn up, my arm wedged beneath me so my hand could cup myself. I whimpered, rutting against my palm, and then gasped when something hard and hot raked over my perineum and balls. Still mostly asleep, I chased the heat and solidity, wanting it.
A palm gripped one of my ass cheeks and a trail of rough wetness went up my neck.
The end of my dream blew away, replaced by the perfect reality of Gavin behind me.
“Fuck, Eliott, please tell me you’re awake now…”
“Don’t stop,” I demanded, my voice a rough wreck from last night.
Instantly, he pushed my knee down and urged me fully onto my front, my hand trapped now between the bed and my cock, and his thighs spread around mine. His cock drove between my thighs until the blunt head bumped my balls and his hands gripped my upper arms fiercely. “How are you horny right now, and not hungover?” he groaned.
“Never get hungover,” I groaned right back, wriggling under him and flexing my thighs to surround his erection even tighter, feeling sweat already making the push easier. “I don’t have more than one drink at a time very often, so it only takes a few to get me drunk.”
“You beautiful bastard,” Gavin gasped, his pelvis arching into my ass in a lazy rhythm. “Don’t know if you remember, but you backed that ass up so good last night on the dance floor, begging me to fuck you, and for the last hour you’ve been trying to get my dick to pop right into you dry. So you’re going to let me rub one out real quick just like this—”
Usually intercrural didn’t appeal to me, but I did remember everything from last night. As if I hadn’t wanted him in my ass enough before, hearing him tell me that I was his best friend after I asked him to tell me a secret… Oh, God, I’d give him anything he wanted for that, especially if it made him whine and cry out the way he was right now. So I clenched every muscle in my lower body and marveled at how close this… faux claiming got me.
“I remember,” I promised. “You did so good taking care of me, baby.”
“I’m going to take care of you good—in—a few hours—” he growled erratically, “maybe let you—tie me down to—this bed of—yours—and ride me any way you want—”
“Fuck me,” I cried out, shocked when I spilled all over my hand and sheet in reaction.
“Eliott,” he roared directly into my ear as he jerked and shook, painting my hole and the bottom of one cheek with his scorching release.
My head was ringing, but I was deliciously satisfied as he dragged himself off me, the last drops on the head of his cock leaving a sticky trail along the back of one thigh.
We dozed for a while, then showered and had granola and honey yogurt. Gavin told me, his eyes shining with amusement, about getting the texts from Sam and Asher. He didn’t bring up the heavy things he’d told me last night about his biological father, so I let it be, certain that we’d be together long enough to go through it again when he was ready.
The day lazed by as we watched a series about sexy pirates, walked a mile to my favorite Mexican restaurant in the neighborhood, and then came back for more of the same. I mostly forgot about his declaration in bed that morning about fucking me, but I was floating anyway because everything between us was so natural and engaging.
It was getting closer to impossible to hold back how much I was falling for him. Things had been so wonderful and he seemed perfectly happy with things the way they were, so I hadn’t brought it up. My throat squeezed and I quickly teased him, instead of saying something he wasn’t ready to hear, “You’re getting so good at doing nothing.”
With a look haughty enough for a king, he retorted, “I’m not doing nothing. I’m making you happy—and I’m lulling you into a false sense of security. Because I finally have my third and final Daring Date picked out and set up.” He rubbed his hands together while I groaned theatrically. “But don’t worry, it’s not for another month or so, on a Wednesday night.”
“Guess I better start thinking about my final Boring Date,” I laughed, pulling him back in against my chest so we could keep snuggling and watching TV until he had to go.
When it was finally time for Gavin’s final Daring Date, I was actually excited about it. The last month had been busy for both of us. His job was changing and he had to learn new things, and I’d taken on a few new tough cases. So we hadn’t gotten to spend quite as much time together, but I still felt like we were in a great place, and he’d made up for canceling nights by sending me dick pics, one of the kinks we hadn’t explored yet.
I got to the United Center, one of Chicago’s stadiums, and the giant signs let me know exactly what we were doing tonight, although I wasn’t sure how it was a dare. Snorting, I went to Will Call and got my ticket, then made my way inside and to my front-row seat.
Gavin was waiting for me and the first thing I said was, “You really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel for your last Daring Date, huh, Gavin? I’m kind of disappointed.”
“A rock concert in a stadium that holds over twenty thousand people is a dare!” he exclaimed in outrage. When I reached for one of the popcorn bags he was carrying, he jerked it back and snapped peevishly, “Unappreciative boyfriends don’t get snacks!”
Grinning, I darted in and snagged one of the backstage passes from around his neck, putting it on before he could do more than huff, realizing he didn’t have a free hand to stop me. “I’m not unappreciative of anything, babe,” I laughed, “I’m just saying, front row seats and a backstage pass to Barnyard isn’t daring. Maybe it would be if I’d never met them, but Barley’s my client and I do remember a certain party with the band and the whole entourage. And I hardly think braving a lot of noise is a dare on par with riding your bike.”
That had him sputtering before he retorted, “That’s—just being here isn’t the dare!”
“No?” I asked cockily.
“As if!”
“You’re slipping, sweetheart,” I stated, pretending to be mournful about it.
He glared at me for a long few seconds, but then his face split into a huge smile and he cackled, making everyone around us look over and smile too, his happiness infectious.
Luckily he didn’t seem to have to work during concerts, so he was able to stay with me. We munched on popcorn while he told me about all of the preparation that went into a concert like this. I listened intently. Asher had been a musician for as long as I’d known him, but in smaller-time local acts. Nothing like the madness of one of the biggest bands on the planet. He’d never strived for this, though, and as I listened, I thought it was a great atmosphere for Gavin to work in, but couldn’t imagine Asher in this world.
When the opening act came on, the lights changed and it seemed like all twenty thousand-plus people, except me, screamed at the top of their lungs, and then never stopped, somehow doubling the volume and enthusiasm when Barnyard came on. It was overwhelming. The music was louder and more passionate and clever than I’d ever given modern rock any credit for, and I could barely tear my eyes off Gavin as he jumped and sang. How was it possible that he still had such joy for the music when he must hear it day in and day out, when he’d seen these world-famous men in a thousand mundane scenarios?
I’d completely forgotten about his As if by the time he turned to me while the stadium clapped, rhythm slowly increasing, as they shouted for an encore. “So, baby,” he shouted in my ear. “There’s a tradition with Barnyard encores. I don’t suppose you know it?”
“You must know I don’t,” I shouted back.
“You gotta strip to your undies,” he informed me, already following his own order.
Practically aghast, I looked around in horror. To my shock, everyone was doing the same thing—men down to hairy chests and women down to bras of every kind.
For a second, I could only appreciate the mostly-naked variety of skin tones and body types around me, and the carefree, judgment-free loyalty to Barnyard that it demonstrated.
But then self-consciousness took over and I shook my head.
“It’s crucial to the whole experience.” Gavin waved his arms around at everyone, his braid swinging where it was looped over the crook of one elbow. “And it’s the actual dare!”
It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my body. I took good care of it and I never thought twice at the gym or when I dove into Barley’s pool surrounded by virtual strangers. But that fit in a context I understood, while this… did not. I wasn’t someone who jumped up and down and lost his mind, or someone who joined in silly, fun traditions. I wasn’t someone who could be free like that, live in the moment and feel the euphoria of it all.
I chewed on my lip and shook my head again. “I love your spontaneity, but it’s not me,” I forced out. His purple eyes were big and dark on me, his head tilting as he listened. “I’m passionate about things, but I’ve never shouted or taken my clothes off to demonstrate it.”
He dragged one finger down my torso while the crowd went crazy, exploding as the band came back on for the inevitable encore. “I’m the only one who’s going to look at you.”
Then I realized, I was thinking too hard. This was nothing but a dare—he knew I didn’t do stupid, pointless things and he wanted to see me do it just because he’d dared me to. I could see it suddenly in the smile he broke out, the one I’d thought was so vexing when we first met, his eyes glittering and his mouth twisted up in challenge, toying with me.
“For the record, this is stupid,” I said, and took off my damn shirt and pants.
His eyes crinkled a little as he smiled, almost elegant, and I had a flash of what he’d look like in ten, twenty, and thirty years as those elegant lines deepend and flared out.
“I’d only do this for you.”
I wasn’t sure he’d heard me until he hugged me hard, so hard, one hand cradling the back of my head and shoving it into his neck, which smelled so damn magically good.
I felt his neck shake with words, but they were lost in the insane volume of Barnyard and the audience as the last chords wailed out of guitars and the last notes wailed out of Barley’s powerful lungs.
Closing my eyes, I held onto him and whispered, “I love you so much.”
My feelings had been flourishing from the very second I’d first seen him, but it had felt so natural and so unalterable that for once I hadn’t overthought it. But lately I’d been thinking about it more often, and saying it, even though I knew he hadn’t heard it, was like a sledgehammer to my heart. My love for him was so simple, so masterful, a perfect arrangement of compatibility, mutual desire, and matching cleverness and humor.
This love was real and mine and fucking beautiful, when I stripped it down to basics. It was a steady warmth that enveloped me, not too hot or tight so I felt threatened by it.
Eyes stinging, I stayed right there through the final rounds of applause, Barnyard exiting the stage, and the crowd emptying out, Gavin’s hold on me never slackening.
Once it was just us, security, and the cleanup crew, he let me go and then gasped and cried out, “Eliott! I can’t believe you got me naked in public! Isn’t that illegal? Get dressed!”
Any other time, I would’ve griped at him. But now, with my love for him so strong once I’d let myself fully feel it, I only laughed brightly as we put our shirts and pants back on.
He scooped up our coats and led me out of the stadium. “For a second I thought you weren’t going to strip. The way you show your passion may involve less spontaneous nudity—sometimes, depending on the passion,” he interrupted himself to clarify, tossing a flirtatious as hell look over his shoulder. “It wasn’t meant to make you philosophical.”
“Just meant to get me out of most of my clothes?”
“Out of your head a little, at the very least,” he teased, his voice light but his eyes knowing as he pinned me against some random stretch of wall by the hips. “That hug was almost as good. The consequence of not doing the dare right away, though… Dire. I’m going to enjoy this so much. You think you want me to take your ass? Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to take it so slow, then so hard and deep, you’ll want to die before I let you come.”
Hissing, I tried to contain my arousal by digging the heel of one palm into my cock.
But Gavin snatched my hand away, replacing it with one of his slimmer thighs, the pressure light and exquisite and sheer torture. “But first, you’ll have to walk through the backstage area and congratulate Barley and the others on the great show. Hard as a rock.”
That right there was why I loved Gavin Sycamore. Challenge and compromise. Sweet and torturous. Dare and guarantee. I couldn’t resist a single facet of him, I never wanted to.
“Yeah? Your boss is going to see how big my cock is,” I taunted him.
My heart began racing gleefully when his eyes lit up. “Well your boss is going to ask you why you’re limping on Monday at work, so who gives a shit what Barley sees?”