Dec 7, 2011

Once Upon a New Years Eve

Title: Once Upon a New Years Eve
Word Count: 6,731
Categories: contemporary, short story, erotic romance, short series free read, NSFW
Thanks to: Melanie Tushmore for the awesome beta, and Whistle who knows K.C. in and out!!
Also available to download in .pdf format at: ARe, Smashwords, Goodreads

Joey is at a New Years Eve party, sulking in heart break from a recent breakup. Just when he thinks it couldn't get worse, Dillon, an old bully from high school, enters his life again.


“Hey, don't look so sad.” Melissa's fingers tried to twist my lips into a forced smile. “There. Keep that. You look better when you're smiling.”

My lips bounced back to their gloomy pout. “I didn't even want to come tonight--”

“Oh, phew, you're no fun.”

Maybe I wasn't. I didn't want to be fun. Who gave a damn if this was New Year's Eve? I surely didn't.

“This isn't about Tan--”

I covered her lips before she could say that name.

Yes, this was about Tanner. My ex after three years. Ugh. How could I have fun when he broke up with me just before Christmas? Everything was fine between us and I hadn't known it was coming. I was home, cooking dinner for him, oblivious to what was going on when he got home from work.

The other man had the gull to invite himself in, the man who took my Tanner away from me. He was taller than my five foot four, stocky and muscular, with a well paid for golden tan.

Tanner had grabbed a suitcase and when I asked him what was going on, all I got was, “It's not working out.”

That's not what I thought.

“Just try to have a good time,” she said through my finger, still pressed up on her lips.

I stepped away and monitored the crowd. Happy, loving couples hand in hand, legs bumping legs and I'm sure more to come later. God, this was just insane. I took a drink of my beer and turned back to Melissa.

I'd known her since high school. She was the only one with the guts to help out the short, chubby gay kid who was always too shy to really make any friends. That was me back then. My bully, some punk with spiked hair and wannabe gangster bling would crack jokes and make comments, and I was even pulled out to an alley way for a good pounding. Well, that would have been the first time if it wasn't for Melissa.

She stood taller than the bully, even taller than me, a looming shadow compared to the man who hovered over me with her fist raised in the air. Before I could blink, she pushed him up against the side of the house and wailed on him.

That was so awesome. I stood, mouth dropped in awe at the girl kicking the shit out of that asshole who picked on me all year long.

“I'll try,” I answered her, knowing it would be hard without Tanner who originally was supposed to be here with me.

There was no way I was even moving from my spot. Not with all the couples around me, buzzed on shots of tequila and booze, pressed suspiciously close to each other. If this turned into one big dancing orgy, I was sure to leave.

I lowered my head, focusing my attention on the floor. Melissa had walked off, leaving me there alone at the mercy of lost love and my broken heart. I shouldn't even be here, the alcohol wasn't doing nothing but bringing up old memories and tears.

A chilly blast of wind hit my back, the sound of the door slammed shut caught my attention. I flicked my eyes towards the crowd, a tiny hope that maybe it was Tanner but I highly doubted it. It wasn't, of course. A couple of faces I'd never seen before, but supposedly Melissa invited, stepped in and disappeared through the crowd. Damn.

Wait a minute...

There was one person in the group that stood out. His face round, big dark brown eyes, and I immediately remembered that face trapped under the hood of his jacket.

I straightened my spine and looked him over, disbelief shot through me.

No, fucking, way.

“Hey, Joey, you remember him right?” Melissa pointed to the same guy I was staring at.

I nodded, slow and steady. “Why the hell is he here?”

“Well, I ran into him at the store. It's been, like, forever ya know. I guess after that incident, his family moved to Los Angeles--”

“Yeah? Why is he back?” My entire body tensed, cheeks flushed hot with anger.

“His gram is in the hospital. I guess she doesn't have a lot of time left.” She turned, focused attention on me, my fists were clenched at my sides and, seriously, if I were a cartoon character, there would be steam spurting from my ears. “He's changed, you know. And he really wanted to see ya.”

“Fuck that!”

“Oh, come on. Give the man a break--”

“Yeah, did you see him try to give me a break when he was about to pound me into oblivion?”

“You don't believe in giving second chances?”

I shook my head. “Hell no.”

“Shit, here he comes,” Melissa said, turning away.

My former assailant smiled, waved, and stepped out of the crowd to us gathered in front of the dining room table. I couldn't believe just how casual he was acting after everything that happened.

“Joey,” he stood with his hand drawn, waiting for a shake. “How's it going? Long time, no see, huh?”

I just looked at his hand. There was no way I even wanted to touch him.

He caught my hesitation, and probably the offered 'get the hell away from me' look in my eye, and dropped his arm to his side. “Yeah, kind of awkward us meeting again, right?” He flipped off his hood and I expected the same greased up spikes from back in school. Instead, it was all cut short and styled.

“You're telling me,” I sighed in a low, cracking pitch.

He rubbed the back of his neck, brows furrowed. “Yeah, well, Melissa tells me you own that old bar in Parkview.”

“And?” I flicked my eyes towards Melissa, who hid behind my back. “What else is she saying about me?”

“Nothing else. Just that you bought the bar after you graduated from business school. I can't believe you decided to take that place on, man. Wasn't it the biggest druggie place back when we were in school?”

I nodded. “Yeah, the rumors were true, but I cleaned it up pretty good.”

“That's cool. Um,” the tension ran so high, I was surprised we were even talking to each other. “So what else have I missed in the last six years?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, you... you look great, huh?”

“I suppose so.”

“And you started working out?”

I nodded.

We both had changed a lot since high school. Melissa was a speck to him now, as he stood towering over both of us. He'd bulked up too, a chiseled figure filled his black band t-shirt under his winter jacket, and a pair of blue jeans seemingly a little too tight around his muscled legs. If I weren't absolutely sure that I hated his fucking guts, I'd probably hit on him. But there was no way that was happening.

“Okay,” Melissa broke our concentrated stare. “The tension around here is so god damned high that I can't even breathe. Care for a drink, Dillon?”

“Sure,” he said, following her towards the kitchen.

I let my shoulders drop and took a deep breath of air. I knocked back my beer, the alcohol burned on its way down but damn, it felt good to take a moment to relax my nerves. That is, until he came back with Melissa.

“So, I'm gonna be over there. You two get acquainted,” she said with a clever wink and left us to ourselves.

What? Why?

“Wait --”

“Let her go,” Dillon watched as Melissa disappeared into the crowd. “I do have something I wanted to talk about.”

I turned away from him and guzzled the rest of my beer. I didn't want to hear whatever he had to say, whether it was a slick apology for making my sophomore year a living hell, or if it was a goodbye. Actually, I'd be happier if it was the later.

“There's nothing to talk about,” I said loudly, popping open another can of beer.

“Yes, there is. Sit down a minute.” He pulled a chair out from under the table but I hesitated to follow his command. “Come on, looks like you have nothing better to do anyway, right?”

I turned to him and narrowed my brow. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” He smiled with a chuckle. “Sit down and listen to what I have to say, please.”

A long exasperated breath escaped my lungs that I didn't even know I was holding in. I sat down in the chair and he pulled another out from under the table to sit in front of me.

“I don't really think there is anything you can say that will change things between us, Dillon.”

“I know that,” he sighed. “It just... you know, I came here because my grandmother is ill.”


“Well, I figured that while I'm here maybe I could settle a few things with people I'd pissed off back in the day.”

“What, is this, like, one of your AA steps or something?” I chuckled.

“No,” his smile wavered. “It's just what I really want to do.”

“And you're starting with me? Really? Isn't there someone else you can ask for forgiveness, like Billy from ninth grade, remember him?”

He lowered his head. “Yeah, I remember him. He took a couple good beatings like a champ.”

“Well, why not ask for his forgiveness and leave me alone?”

His brown eyes darkened as they came back to me. “Because he's not the one I wanted to talk to.”

Shit. Why me?

“Look, you're making this extremely hard for me, Joey.”

“Is that right?” Snarky attitude, I needed it so badly now.

He closed his eyes and sighed deep. “It's too late, but I'm sorry.” His eyes opened, dark and solemn, full of meaning of those words he just said. “I'm sorry for all the shit I caused you in school, for trying to kick your ass--”

“I bet you were more sorry when Melissa came up and knocked your ass out.”

He lifted a brow and chuckled. “Yeah, I was. But the thing is, Joey, I realized what I was doing was wrong.”

Oh, god, it can't be...

“And that the reason why I teased you so badly was...”

No, don't say it...

“Because I was unsure of my own sexuality...”

“Ohmigod, you're gay?” I stood up, voice echoed loud and if it weren't for the holler of the crowd during the New Year countdown, everyone else would have heard me.

Dillon wiped his face, a smile spread on lips. “Bisexual, Joey. I'm bi, okay? Now sit the fuck down.”

Oh, hell, no. This wasn't... it couldn't be possible. This man, everyone knew him as the only one who could get any girl he ever wanted, and now he was telling me he's attracted to men too? Does that mean, me?

I flushed, but not in anger, more in concern and embarrassment. If he even tried to come on to me, I couldn't be sure what I'd do. Hell, I'd guzzled my third drink before eleven o'clock and was working on my seventh. I didn't know if I was in the right mind to shoo him away from me. Not in my heart broken condition. Not with a body like his; ready and--by the looks of it--willing, sitting right here.

Funny thing is that I wasn't exactly attracted to him when he was trying to kick my ass. Why is it he had to step back into my life looking so damned gorgeous?

Please don't try to come on to me!

“Okay,” I shook any thoughts from my wired mind. “Let me get this straight. You're bisexual, and... you bullied me because you were uncomfortable with your own self, right?”

“Sorta,” he sighed.

“Sorta? What kind of fucking answer is that?”

“Look.” He reached to touch me and I jerked back, thumping the chair a few more inches away from him too, just to make sure he didn't do it again. “You're...” he breathed. “How do I put this?”

I knew it.

You've changed, a lot. Melissa didn't tell me a damn thing about you at the grocery store until I asked because I learned you bought that bar from the recent article in the paper.” He shrugged. “You look... really good, Joey. I mean, you really changed your life around.”

My article. I'd almost forgotten about that.

“Since when can you get the Kansas City Star in Los Angeles?” I furrowed my brow in disbelief.

“Um, since the internet--”

“Of course,” I whispered.

“I'd like to patch things up with you. Why are you making it so hard?”

“Because you tormented me, maybe? My entire sophomore year sucked because of you. I didn't even want to talk to anyone because of the rumors you spread.”

“And I'm sorry for it all, Joey.” He slid his chair an inch, regaining the closeness of before. “Hell, if I could go back and change myself, I would.”

I didn't pull away from him this time. Instead, I let him rest his hand on my knee, letting the rage burn and fizzle at his touch. Everything about him was calling out forgiveness. The way his brown eyes turned to opals with his solemn apology made me shiver under my, what I thought, was thick skin. I could melt under his gentle hand that now glided up my knee and rested, fingers splayed, on my thigh. What the hell was I supposed to do?

I jerked my leg, the warmth from his touch cooled, as did the heated trembles down my spine.

“Fine, I forgive you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He straightened his spine and sat back on his chair. “Yeah, just not so mad like--”

“Well, what do you expect?”

Dillon lowered his head. There would be silence if the loud music and crowd hoots and hollers didn't make up for it.

A strange feeling came over me. The fact that I accepted his apology was clearer. I truly meant it, despite the hate, and my snarky attitude, towards him.

Okay, something isn't right here. I need to lay off the booze.

“Come with me tonight.”

“What?” I was blown away by his sudden demand.

“This isn't a good place for us to discuss this. Let's go somewhere else. You drink coffee?”

He was right. With the loud thunder of the crowd partying in the new year, I could hardly hear him anymore. But this whole ordeal was making me more nervous. If he was someone different, sure, I'd stand up right now, pull him out the door, and take him back to my place for a night neither of us would forget. But, I'd remember what he did for the rest of my life and it made this whole process of forgive and forget just a little more than uncomfortable.

“What if Melissa needs me to help clean--”

“She'll be fine.” He motioned to the group of girls congregating in the kitchen. “She's got Lori and everyone here to help out.”

He wasn't going to let me out of this, was he?

“I... guess.”

“Great.” He stood and extended a hand. “There's a small coffee shop--”

Another thunderous roar from the crowd interrupted him. I didn't drink coffee, actually I hated the stuff, and wondered just what else he was going to say. I thought I asked “what was that?” but he stayed quiet, yanking me through the crowd and towards the door.

Melissa watched with this strange, knowing smile on her lips. I shrugged at her, but she just waved at me as we walked out the door.

Okay, this was weird. What the hell did Melissa know that I didn't?

Dillon led me through the compacted snow across the yard to a rental car, opened the passenger's side door for me, then walked to the other side. I stood a moment. Was this really the right thing to do?

“Are you coming?” he asked, leaned over the seat, with the car engine started and ready to go.

There it was again. The dark sparkle in his eyes that I couldn't stop from staring at.

I ducked my head and sat down on the passenger's seat next to him. “Where are we going again?”

“The coffee shop near my hotel,” Dillon said.

A rich, heady cologne stuck in the air, in the upholstery, and carpet. For a moment, I'd wondered if it was his because I couldn't remember something so intoxicating at the party. Curious, I played with everything on the center dashboard. The old paper cup from this morning's coffee maybe, a couple of CDs that I recognized the band names of, and a small bottle of men's cologne. Yep, it was his.

We were on the road, speeding further and further away from the residential district.

“I hate coffee,” I said quite bluntly.

“Oh? You wanna get something to eat, instead? There's a restaurant inside my hotel.”

“Okay, that's it. Stop the damn car.” I searched out the door handle.


“You're trying to get me back to your room, right?” I chuckled. “I knew it. God, I should have figured.”

“Now wait a minute. I never said anything like that, Joey. You're still thinking of me as the bad guy when I'm just trying to make amends.”

I huffed, folded my arms across my chest, and slouched against the seat. There was no way I was going to jump out of the car and risk bruising, so I was stuck with him until we arrived at wherever he wanted to go. I just hoped that I wouldn't regret this in the morning.

“Unless you want to go back to my room,” he whispered.

“I never said that.”

“Oh, come on. I don't want to do anything, I just want to talk where it's quiet.”

“Stop the car then, let's talk.”

“I don't think the middle of the freeway is a good place for a discussion.”

Keeping my eyes on the road, I didn't notice his hand reaching out for my face. My body jerked, his warm hand brushed back the small hairs that hung over my eyes.

“Knock it off.” I slapped his arm away.

He chuckled in amusement. “You have changed though. When did you start working out, anyway?”

“After junior year.”

And when did he grow so damn tall? Part of me wanted to ask, since the last I remembered, it was Melissa who towered over him.

“That's cool. I started working out a bit when I got to Los Angeles. You know, with all those tight bodies on the beach, I had to step up my game a little bit.”

Damn, no wonder he looked like he'd just come from the beach when he walked into the party. It's a wonder I even recognized the man at all. If it weren't for Melissa, who finally reminded me just who I was looking at, I probably wouldn't have even believed my own instincts.

This man was simply gorgeous, and now I was sitting here, pouting like a baby when I could just stop what I was doing and ravish him. A part of me wondered just how well he wore his golden tan under that thin t-shirt of his, and how perfectly chiseled his chest was, and if he wore boxers or briefs. Maybe his ass was tanned too?

Nope, I wasn't going down that route. I knew my limits, even though the alcohol fueling those thoughts told me otherwise.

“Here we are,” his low voice snapped me back into reality.

The large, eight story hotel, bloomed into the sky and I realized that I hadn't even confirmed that I wanted to get a bite to eat, or drink coffee.

“So what are we doing?”

“I don't know. You didn't really give me an answer.”

I needed a drink, that's what I wanted to do.

“Is there a bar in this fancy place?”

He shook his head. “No, but I have a cocktail bar in my suite.”

Shit. Of course. All the more reason to get stuck with him in his room.

“Fine,” I pouted, door open and about to get out. “Let's go, then.”

“You sure? I mean, I don't want to make you do anything you--”

“You're not making me do anything, Dillon.”

This was better than being stuck at that party, sulking in my own tears.

I stepped out of the car and made it to the front of the motel, hands buried inside my pockets for warmth. Dillon followed close behind, and when we reached the door, he held it open for me even with the doorman standing next to him. Hell, maybe I should tip him instead of the guy who was supposed to do this job?

We were silent inside the lobby, and even more so when we entered the elevator with a woman, suit cases by her side. I welcomed the silence, as it gave me time to fuel up some more thoughts and questions about the man I was with.

Like, what the hell was going to happen when we get up to his room?

I knew my limits, but with six beers twisting my curiosity, I couldn't be sure I could keep my hands to myself. And to drink even more? Now, that would be a recipe for disaster.

Dillon opened the door to his room and I stepped past him, taking notice of the massive space that he clearly didn't need for a single guy. A large, queen sized bed took up most of the room with a small counter-top, dresser, and television stand, all matching dark oak, against the opposite wall. There was a perfect view of the city skyline through partly closed thick curtains, and a round table in the corner with a single suit case on top.

“Damn,” I huffed. “Couldn't get anything bigger?”

“Well, all the smaller rooms were taken,” he said, door closed and he walked past me to the table.

I slipped my coat off, throwing it over the bed and sat down, arms crossed and really not ready to be here. It gave me the creeps. This was the perfect opportunity for a one night stand, something that I knew I couldn't handle right now.

“So, where's the cocktail bar?”

“It's right here,” he said, moving slowly towards a built-in mini-fridge under the counter-top.

You call that a bar?

He swung open the door and revealed several little shot bottles of all sorts of different liquor. That would work. I could probably drain every single one of those while I was here.

“Let's see, there's just about everything in here so what's your poison?”

“What's that blue stuff?”

“This?” He held out a clear blue bottle. “It's sour.”

“I'll take it.” I was feeling pretty sour tonight, so that was perfect.

Dillon threw me the bottle, that I surprisingly caught, and picked something for himself before moving back to the table.

“So, you went to business school then?” Dillon asked and downed half the bottle.

“Yeah,” I answered, picking at the label of my bottle.

“How was that like?”

“It was just more school, is all. What about you?”

He folded his hands between his legs, head lowered, eyes on the floor. “I didn't go to college, if that's what you're wondering.”

“Why not?” I asked, bottle to my lips, the sour sting of liquor on my tongue.

“I dropped out my senior year.”

I wasn't surprised to hear that at all. He wasn't exactly an A student when we went to school together. If I remembered right, he was voted most likely to drop out. So after I'd heard that, I began to laugh.

“It's not funny, Joey.”

“Oh, no, I'm not laughing at you. Well... okay, I am.”

So, I was being a major asshole but I couldn't help it.

“You're a prick, you know that?”

I settled my laughter to a wide grin, tears stung my eyes and I wiped at my cheeks. “I can't help it. That's the funniest shit ever cause what they said in high school was true. You did drop out.”

“It's not a laughing matter, Joey.”

My lips quivered, about to laugh again.

“I couldn't go to school.”

I stilled. “Why not?”

“Let's just say that it's hard to even concentrate when you're so fucked up you can't even move.”

“What the hell do you mean by that? What, were you on drugs or something?”


“Oh, dude, I'm so sorry.” I still couldn't hold back a chuckle. “No, I really am, it's not a laughing matter.”

Dillon stood up, tossed the empty bottle in the trash, and picked himself another from the mini-fridge. He turned towards me and threw me another bottle, even though I wasn't even done with the first one. “Maybe I should shut up. There's just... for some reason I wanted to tell you because I thought you would understand.”

“I do, seriously,” I cleared my throat. “And you're sobered up now, right?”

He nodded.

“Great. You know, I'm happy you wanted to tell me that, but yeah, it's just not... a good time.”

Which it wasn't. If he wanted sympathy, I couldn't help him. Not with the mood I was in.

He scratched the back of his neck and I drank in the sight of muscles strained against his tight t-shirt. Jesus, he looked good. It had to be a crime somewhere for your enemy to turn up looking that fucking hot.

“Yeah, I guess not,” he said.

Popping open the tab, I took a long, hearty drink, finishing the entire second bottle.

“Maybe we'll talk about it some other time, huh?”

Doubt it.

He sat back in his chair and downed the alcohol in one snort. I couldn't think anymore, the added hard liquor made it difficult for me to even concentrate, but I wanted to break this silence that formed between us just so I wasn't bored.

“So you got a girl? Or guy?” I asked, voice scratchy, fighting a lump that had built in my throat.

“No. I haven't dated for about a year, actually. How about you?”

My mind immediately went back to Tanner. That son-of-a-bitch, wait, what was I thinking?

“He was an asshole,” I whispered, a confession to myself.


Just then, I realized who I was talking to. Dillon didn't need to know about how Tanner left me, no, because this talk was suppose to be all about him, right?

“It's over... I don't really want to talk about it,” I sighed.

“I'm sorry.” He lowered his head, hands stuffed between knees again.

“What for? It was all my fault-” No it wasn't. “-that he left me.” I should just shut my mouth right about... now.

“Do you really think that?”

I didn't know what to think anymore. Nothing could ever make me forget about him. I covered my face with my hands, massaged all the hurt and tension from my cheeks, and crashed back on the bed. “No. I just can't figure out what happened between us.”

“Sounds like he put you through a bunch of shit.”

He did.

My entire body went numb as I stared up at the cream colored stucco ceiling. Every thought, every emotion I had bottled up in the last three weeks was on the tip of my fingers, my toes, and my tongue. I wanted to scream, to cry, and to drink more until I couldn't feel the pain of losing him.

“Sort of,” I sighed, remembering the day he left me like it was yesterday. “I don't know. Everything was wonderful until about a couple of months ago.”

In my mind, those fights weren't nothing. We handled them like two grown adults and were back to our usual selves the next morning. But Tanner must have thought through them, or he already had that guy and was trying to find a way to kick me out of his life.

The thought left me trembling. My face flushed. I shouldn't be thinking of this here but it was almost impossible after it was brought up.

“Joey?” A rustle in the corner made me turn my head, Dillon had gotten up, and stood next to the bed. “Are you okay?” His soft brown eyes narrowed in on me.

Tears stung in the corners of my eyes and slid down my temples. My heart ached, welled up into my throat, and I sniffled. I shook my head, no, because I wasn't okay.

He knelt on the bed beside me, hand reached out to gently wipe an escaping tear from my cheek. “You'll be okay. It'll take some time--”

My eyes brightened, realized that he was so close, and I could feel the soothing warmth from his touch comforting the hurt. Shit!

He must have thought it to be panic and swiftly moved his hand away from my face. I caught his wrist, the movement faster than I thought I could pull off, and stared into his tender eyes.

I licked my lips as he carefully bent closer, and my heart began to thunder in my chest. I needed him closer, to help me forget about the pain, not only what happened with Tanner, but with us as well. His lips brushed against mine, and my tongue darted out, lips opening wide to taste the alcohol resonating on his breath.

Letting go of his wrist, I wrapped my arms around his back and his muscles tensed. He had me pinned underneath his warmth, a place that I'd secretly wanted to be since I took that first honest look at him back at the party.

His lips moved across my cheek, and I tucked my head into his shoulder. There it was, that heady scent of cologne on him, and I drank in that intoxicating aroma, my entire body tingling, needfully grasping at his taut muscles. My pants had become too tight. My vision swirled.

It's too fucking hot in here.

Lips suckled in my ear lobe and I about lost myself. He added a gentle nip to my neck that sent my voice into a low, husky drawl of moans.

I began to explore his soft, supple skin underneath his shirt, tracing every taut line down his sides until I reached his waist. Hands stuffed under his waistband, the motion too much for him that he pulled away and straightened his spine.

“Wait. You sure you wanna do this?”

“Absolutely.” I struggled to sit up and reached out to touch him.

Dillon stilled, silent, when I splayed my fingers across his clothed chest. He watched as my fingers traveled down his stomach, and grasped the bottom of his shirt. He needed it off, right now.

Shadows creased the chiseled lines of his abs and I explored each one, drawing over them with my finger, the warmth from him lighting me on fire.

Eyes narrowed. He drifted closer, lips on mine, and my back was flat on the bed again, with him hovering over me. Soft fingers trailed underneath my shirt, tracing circles around my nipple. I opened my lips with a moan, his tongue darted between them to steal my voice away.

He brushed his crotch into my thigh and I thrust closer, needing to feel his hardness there, his yearning. I grasped his back, muscles tensed when my fingertips dug into his soft skin.

His heart beat loud, or was that mine, I couldn't tell anymore. Maybe it was both of ours, combined in this sharing of passion.

There was relief, breath escaped me as he wrenched at my jeans, loosening them from my waist. A warm grip on my rigid cock and I had melted to his touch. Dillon continued to nip at my lower lip as his hand stroked down my length. I ran my fingers up his sides, taking in every curve of his body, feeling more and more intoxicated by him than the alcohol.

He cupped my balls tight, rolled them in his fingers, then traveled back to the head of my cock, thumbing my slit. I trembled needfully underneath him.

Soft brown eyes focused on me. I'd given myself to this man, this enemy that I had hated. There was curiosity in his face, an understanding, yet bewilderment all at the same time.

“I gotta tell you, I haven't exactly been tested,” he sighed.

“Neither have I.”

It's not something you think of after being with the same guy for three years.

“I don't suppose you have a condom?” he asked in hesitation.

I dug my wallet out of my back pocket. He was in luck. Even though I never needed one in the past, I carried one just in case. Luckily, I had a new one that, on a whim, I stuffed in my wallet about a week ago hoping that maybe I'd get lucky.

“Right here.” I flashed him the silvery package.

“Awesome.” He pecked my cheek and stood up, pants loose around his hips. “I'll get the lube.”

“You brought some?”

I turned and he dug through his suitcase, nodding his head, a smile spread on his lips.

“Well, you never know, right?”

Taking a moment to see him in the pure white light made my heart skip. A tattoo on his upper right shoulder, a tribal shaped star with a blurred name all in black, had me wondering about his story. What had he gone through in L.A.?

He turned to walk back, holding up his jeans, and he knelt between my legs again, easing my jeans from around my hips.

“I promise to take it easy,” he said, voice low and certain.

No. I wanted it rough and fast. None of this slow and mellow shit.

“Just fuck me, Dillon.”

His eyes caught mine in curiosity. Brows narrowed.

My jeans were off and without another word, I felt a slick finger slide against my ass, and press deep. I almost came off of the bed, back arched, wanton moans cried into the air. I'd asked for it, damn it, and I got it.

One finger was soon two, then three, pumping into me, rocking over my prostate. I moved with him, pressing down on him, needing him even deeper.

The grunts and moans from my lips were volatile, like in a porn movie, brought out by the alcohol coursing through my veins. Dillon leaned over and caught those words on his tongue, kissing them right from my lips.

When he slipped his fingers away, I almost begged him not to, until he rustled with the condom, and slid his rigid cock close to my hole. Every single muscle in my body stiffened in anticipation.

His fingers buried in my hair, eyes sought out mine. “What's this, getting nervous?”

Far from it. I narrowed my eyes and playfully puckered my lips. “No.”

A shrewd grin swept his lips. “Good.”

Dillon thrust, the head of his cock stretching me, and damn, maybe I was getting kind of nervous because the tremble down my spine at the sensation scared me a little. An escaping tear tickled the corner of my eye.

He took note of the ache, and softened his features. His smooth finger brushed away the tear. “I don't care what you say, Joey. I'm going to take it slow.”


Pressing closer, he thrust in slow, rhythmic motions until the pressure had dulled, replaced by euphoria and sheer need. When I took a breath, he sped is pace, hitting my prostate with every move, lighting a fire inside me.

I wrapped my legs around his hips. He had straightened his spine, pushed balls deep, and gripped my cock in a tight fist.

“Ah, fuck...” the words escaped me, taunting him, and he rocked harder, stroking my cock.

The flames spread through my stomach and down my legs. I could barely stand it anymore, I wanted to climax with every single thrust. The desire had me on edge. Right hand splayed, and pulled on the sheets, bunching them under my fingers as my left hand glided over his smooth skin.

Fingers threaded through my hair, Dillon leaned in again, warm lips on mine, his heart thundered against my chest. The warmth of his release filled me as his cock pulsed, and just knowing that he had made me come as well.

Heavy breath swept past my cheeks as he pulled away and rolled on the side of the bed. Silence filled the air, as did the heavy scent of passion. There was the stucco ceiling above me, blurred in my sleepy vision.

“You can sleep here if you want,” his said with a heavy breath.

That was probably a good idea.

I nodded.

“I'll set an alarm if you need one.”

But I didn't. I rolled to the side, facing the wall, and closed my eyes. There was a rustle behind me, the light in the room darkened, bed sheets lifted, and he was beside me, ready to sleep the rest of the night away.


Fresh orange morning light blinded me even with eyes closed. I sat right up, head spinning, and blinked at the invading sunrise. I wanted to puke. How many beers did I drink last night?

It hit me then that I was in the hotel room with Dillon, the man who tormented me for one horrible year of high school. No fucking way.

I struggled out of the sheets, cold air bit at my naked ass. Holy shit! Stepping on the floor, knees weakened and I caught myself before my feet fell out from under me.

There was a mad churn in my stomach from the alcohol, and from him. To top it off, my ass was sore. This wasn't good.

The man slept soundly on the opposite side of the queen sized bed. I slid around to where I last remembered my clothes being tossed, and hurriedly slipped everything on. I had to get out of there. This shouldn't have happened, but it did, and I was the one who asked for it. God, I was such a fucking slut.

I rustled through a drawer inside of the television stand.

There should be a notepad and pencil here some where.

Something told me to leave him a note. But what should I write? Thanks for the night, but that's it, I don't wanna have anything to do with you?

A stirring made me peek over my shoulder, Dillon had turned to his stomach, arm stretched across the edge of the bed.

There it was, the notepad caught underneath a small bible. I pulled it out, found the pencil stuffed into the metal coils, and wrote:


It was good to see you again. I hope all is well with your grandmother. Please, go back to L.A., find someone there who will be good for you, and don't worry about me. I'll be fine.

Sincerely, Joey

The End??

(No. These two are begging me to finish so look forward to the 2nd installment very soon)

1 comment:

  1. Can't wait to see what happens with Dillon and Joey!