Ex-Daredevil by Zoe Lee

Chapter 33

Gavin

Eliott’s thought spirals—what I called it when he had to figure out how he felt, how he thought I felt about how he felt, and so on, spiraling out infinitely—were one of my favorite things about him. It was an expression of his thoughtfulness and how quickly his brain could work through so many possibilities. And I loved how at the end of every spiral he stayed true to himself, steady and sure. Even if he also got a little apologetic.

I hadn’t expected my dare for him to strip down to cause one.

But for some reason, the way he’d looked at me when he shook his head no the second time, but then did it anyway, cracked open my heart. I had been so, so unprepared for the flood of emotions, heightened by the ecstatic energy of Barnyard and the audience surrounding us. He’d looked so delicate, as if he thought he was letting me down. As if there was something wrong with expressing his joy or happiness quietly and subtly instead of loudly and publicly.

I’d clutched him so hard I expected a protest, telling him he was perfect just the way he was, that I was sorry I’d made it seem like such a big deal instead of just a dare to do something foolish. Then, once the stadium was eerily quiet after the bombardment of the concert, I’d flirted and he’d flirted back, and everything burst into full bloom inside of me.

It was torture to watch him—his bulge definitely bigger than when he wasn’t horny—follow my instructions and speak with each band member. He wasn’t even stingy, only saying congratulations and telling them it was a great show. No, he lingered. No doubt to drive me batshit insane. He recited his favorite lyric of Barley’s to him. He asked about things he’d heard about at Barley’s pool party, making each band member in turn smile and thank him earnestly as they answered him and chatted about whatever.

While Eliott ate one of the tour manager’s cupcakes, Barley moseyed over.

“Hey, kid,” he said in the quietest volume I’d ever heard.

I jerked my head up in surprise. “Did you hurt your voice?” I demanded in concern.

“My voice is fine, I’m just trying to be stealthy,” he assured me.

Screwing up my face, I asked, “Why? Just trying something new?”

“Me and the guys have been talkin’ and we think you’ve been doing a great job, kid,” he said, and it was so serious and sincere, he could have knocked me over with a feather. “You have a real knack for this business and since you’re not coming on tour with us, I want you to spend time working with our manager and the PR folks. There’s a lot to learn and once you do, we can expand your role from PA to something bigger and better than making sure my cranky ass is up on time, wearing the right thing, going to the right place.”

My mouth fell open wide enough to catch flies as I sputtered.

Barley clapped my back with his ham hand and boomed out his regular laugh. “It’s like you’ve never gotten a compliment. You think I hired you without getting a buttload of great recommendations from your old bosses? Everyone you’ve worked with on the job so far has had nothing but fantastic things to say about you. C’mon, kid, I ain’t dumb.”

“Right, sure,” I said faintly to his back as he moseyed off again.

“Hey,” Eliott said, coming over while sucking frosting off his thumb. “You ready?”

Barley’s impromptu performance review and career development opportunity were far too big for me to even begin to tackle. It was one in the morning and I had this gorgeous man, whom I’d promised a phenomenal fuck, so I tucked it away for later and grinned.

“You bet your ass I am,” I claimed with a leer, then we rushed off, detouring to the bathroom before we hopped in our ride out front of the stadium and went to his house.

The second we were inside, Eliott slammed me up against his front door, rattling it in its frame, and took my mouth, the kisses breathless and deep, searching and possessive.

I wrestled him up one stair and then the next, my neck cricked and straining as I fought to keep our lips touching, tearing off his clothes and mine as we ascended. He got an arm just under my ass, enough to half-haul, half-drag me through his living room, my hip ricocheting painfully off the back of his couch. In the short hallway, I kicked off my shoes and tripped to my knees, taking the opportunity to shove down his boxer briefs and lick the wet tip of his cock. Above me I heard his head crack against the wall as he swore.

“I don’t have any lube stashed magically in the hallway,” he pointed out, strangled.

“None tucked in one of those fancy sconces?” I teased, garbled by his cockhead.

“You idiot,” he laughed happily, managing to catch me under the armpits and haul me up. We twirled through the door and into his bedroom, our feet tangling so we nearly fell with each half-turn. Hooking an ankle behind my knee, he took me down to the bed, the comforter whooshing and puffing up a little around the outline of my body in welcome.

We made out, rolling around to switch who was on top, until he shuddered hard.

Taking it as a sign that he was ready to get down to it, I gave his ass one satisfying smack and when he collapsed face-first with a cry, I scrambled for the lube and a condom.

Then I set about fulfilling my boasts about how well I was going to fuck him.

I had meant to spin this out, use long, sure strokes inside him, then urge him to jerk himself off when our orgasms finally started to peak. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to be able to truly test his patience and take him apart all night long, because he’d split my heart right open at the concert and I was desperate to show him, since I had no idea how to say it.

So I did my best as I swirled my tongue around his cock like it was a melting ice cream cone and stretched him on my fingers. He held his thighs wide around my shoulders, trembling from the effort of accepting his due. When he was a twitching mess, groaning softly every time my mouth popped off his cock and my fingers grazed his prostate, I eased back.

He looked up at me, his green eyes beseeching and wide as his fingers strangled the corners of the pillow underneath his ass.

“I got you,” I reassured him, probably too fierce and intense, shuffling into place while I coated the condom with a sloppy amount of lube, nerves zipping from my own touch.

“Can’t wait—” he began.

Circling the base of my cock, I aimed it at his hole, dipping into the relaxed muscle, torturing us both until he made a noise I couldn’t ignore, and I sank into him inch by inch.

It was excruciating, the heat and the way he rippled around me, hoarse mewls pouring out as his head thrashed on the sheet and the muscles in his chest and arms popped. His ankles locked across the top of my ass, his hands flying up to knead my trapezius muscles, and his handsome face contorted in pleasure before his entire body went utterly lax. It was as if, the second I was all of the way inside of him, barely rocking without thrusting at all, he had everything he needed and he could relax, trusting me to take it from there.

“There we go,” I whispered, feeling like I was the one who was so full.

I was as deep as I could be, and his arms and legs were encircling me, showing me I was so very welcome right where I was. He was so goddamn perfect, his eyelashes fluttering and quiet, breathless mmhmms filling the air.

There was nothing to prove, I realized suddenly; this wasn’t about my skills or my ability to hold out and make it last and last until we couldn’t take it.

All Eliott Navarre wanted was me, and he had me.

All I had to do was kiss him and kiss him while I undulated my hips, staying deep with the flare of my cockhead tagging his prostate. All he had to do was kiss me back and make those nearly inaudible exhalations of pleasure and hold me tight. All it was really about was our bodies joining, all of our pieces interlocking until we were complete—but it also had nothing to do with our bodies, just a way to express a truth I wasn’t ready to speak yet.

So when he gasped and jolted to press our torsos tight, I was shocked. I had been in like a trance and it was shocking to slam back into my body, where Eliott was now rabbiting his cock against my stomach. Before I could do anything, his entire body started to convulse and he sprayed come up my stomach and chest, croaking out, “Gavin—fill me up, baby.”

Almost sobbing, my orgasm burst out of me, so visceral and long it seemed like the condom would rip and give him just what he’d asked for by the sheer force of his willpower.

“Thank you, oh, God,” I dimly heard him say, and then I might have blacked out.