A Kind of Honesty Read online

Page 17


  “Wha—we can go to your place or—”

  “It’s too far and yours is farther. And… I happen to have a condom. I can’t think of any reason not to do”—I pulled his zipper down and dove inside to palm his thick cock—“whatever we feel like doing. Holy fuck. Are you wearing a jock?”

  “Yeah. We’re in public. Anyone could walk by and see.” Carter’s breath caught when I pushed his pants over his ass and snapped the back strap of his jock. I ran my thumb over the tip of his dick and smeared the precum over the head before stroking him slowly. He made a strangled sound then added, “We could get arrested.”

  “I s’pose we could. Do you want me to stop? I’m hoping you say no. I’m kinda counting on you to beg me to fuck you hard. Tell me you want to feel me all day tomorrow. Tell me you want to remember where we were and exactly how this went down.” I kissed him roughly and smacked his ass before pulling at his arm until he turned to face the post he’d been leaning against.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  Carter turned around and clutched my T-shirt in a vicious grip. “Do it. Fuck me.”

  His tone was savage, urgent, and brooked no argument. I gulped and tried to clear the erotic haze from my vision, but he wouldn’t let me. He crashed his mouth over mine and started working on unbuckling my belt. His movement was hungry and unfettered. It fed a carnal instinct that had me vibrating with need. I batted his hands away and growled for him to turn around while I took over madly attempting to release my rigid cock from my jeans and somehow get to the condom in my wallet.

  Once I succeeded, I rolled the lubed latex on and pushed the elastic strap of his jock aside. “Open up for me. Pull your cheeks apart. That’s it.”

  Carter rested his forehead on the beam and obeyed. I wondered if he had any fucking clue how decadent and crazy hot he looked. He was my teenage dream come to life. Except this was better than any juvenile wet dream. Carter was all man. He was powerfully built with a commanding presence. To see him standing with his pants around his ankles and his fingers in his—

  “Hang on. Let me do that,” I scolded before spitting on my fingers and easing my middle digit inside his tight hole. “Relax.”

  “No. I don’t—just do it. I want it rough.” Carter arched and pushed back on my hand. I ran a soothing hand under his T-shirt, up his spine, then down his side. I stood as still as possible while he rode one finger and immediately begged for another. I complied.

  He grunted but kept moving. Back and forth. Back and forth. I was shaky and sweating with a rush of feral lust. It was hell trying to control myself. And he wasn’t helping.

  “Now,” he hissed.

  I licked my lips and set my sheathed member at his entrance and pushed. And got nowhere. I added saliva and the precum leaking from his dick to ease my way, but it was slow going. Carter wasn’t looking for slow. He was wild with need. He jutted backward, growling in frustration.

  “Shh. Spit on my fingers.”

  I put my hand over his mouth and shoved my middle finger between his lips. He sucked like a madman and then looked over his shoulder with hooded eyelids when I massaged his hole again, gently stretching him open. He moaned loudly. He was drunk in the moment, willing to ask for more than he usually would. And I was with him every step of the way.

  “I’m ready, Tim. Do it.”

  I blinked and tried to focus. Carter repeated my name once more, then rested his forehead on his left arm against the beam and continued jacking himself furiously. I removed my fingers and then pulled his chin sideways and crashed my mouth over his as I pushed slowly inside my lover.

  Carter stilled my movement with a subtle hand on my leg. I took a deep breath and laid my cheek on his shoulder before slyly reaching around to grasp hold of his heavy cock. He sighed and pushed backward, wordlessly letting me know he was ready for more.

  I set a languid pace. A gentle in-and-out motion accompanied by soft sighs and low moans. It didn’t take long for Carter to demand something rougher. I expected it. The fact we were in our current situation was madness. Slow, sweet sex was not what either of us wanted. When he bucked backward with enough momentum to compromise my footing, I wrapped my arms around his chest and fucked him hard.

  “Yes. That’s… good. I want—”

  I put my hand over his mouth and growled in his ear. “I know what you want. You want to live out some kinky fantasy, don’t you? You and the captain of the team wait ’til everyone’s gone so you can screw each other senseless after batting practice. I’m beginning to think you set this up. Did you forget your glove on purpose? Is this what you wanted?”

  He couldn’t respond. I’d upped the tempo drastically. He needed all the strength he could muster to meet the steady, rhythmic pumping. He let go of his cock to maintain balance with both hands as I drove into him mercilessly from behind. I whispered dirty things to make him crazy as I moved like a madman, feeling slightly out of control and unable to stop.

  “Touch me,” he groaned in a low, raspy voice.

  I nudged his cap out of the way to nibble at his ear and lick his neck. Then I slipped my hand under his shirt and tweaked his right nipple.

  “Like that?”

  “No. Touch me. I can’t—”

  Carter craned his neck and gave me a pleading look that turned into one of utter bliss when I gripped his shaft in a tight hold again. He fucked himself into my fist and on my cock with abandon. I struggled to stay on my feet and used every trick I could think of to not be the first to come. But when he bent a little lower and arched his back, I knew resistance was futile. The slight change in angle sent a shiver up my spine. I moved both hands to his shoulders and slammed into him over and over until the sensual tidal wave caught up with me and finally pulled me under.

  I clutched Carter’s broad shoulders, riding out one of the most intense orgasms I’d had in recent memory. When my vision cleared, I became aware of his frantic stroking motion and quickly licked my palm and covered his hand to take over. I snapped my hips, countering the slower strokes by scratching his back. It was the hard smack on the ass that threw him over the edge. I felt his cum coat my fingers. It dripped onto the cement floor of the dugout as he shook with the force of his release.

  We stayed still for a long moment. The city slowly came alive around us, making its presence known with the wail of a nearby siren and the buzz of traffic noise on the main street. I tried to concentrate on the crickets chirping above the hum of reality, but as my heart rate returned to something closer to normal, so did a vague sense of propriety. What the hell were we doing?

  I disengaged carefully and removed the condom before pulling up my jeans, rezipping, rebuckling, and readjusting my baseball cap. I sighed and looked over at Carter, who hadn’t moved a muscle. I went to his side and leaned on the post before giving him a lascivious once-over.

  “You look kinda spacey. You gonna pull yourself together, or do you want me to carry you back to the car?”

  Carter chuckled lightly and smirked. “I can’t move yet.”

  “Let me help.”

  I got down on my knees and drew the fabric from around his ankles, then stood and made a production of tucking in his T-shirt, then buttoning and zipping his pants. Every little ministration was meticulous and precise, as though I was helping a child. The tender care behind the simple actions wasn’t planned or easily explained. I felt a surge of affection for him that baffled me. Maybe it was the setting or the element of surprise. Whatever it was I didn’t question it. The pleased expression on Carter’s handsome face made me want to do something else completely out of character, like offer him my sweatshirt or my last piece of gum. Something boyfriend-y.

  I swallowed hard and took a step back when the poignant feeling threatened to choke me. Carter stopped me. He yanked at my sleeve and pulled me into a warm embrace. For a moment, time stood still. A magical tranquility wrapped around us, blocking out any external noise. Whatever I did or didn’t
understand wasn’t as important as the realization that for the first time in years, I wasn’t alone.

  The energy in the studio intensified over the next few weeks. Everyone in the band played their parts seamlessly, which gave us an opportunity to work on new songs and instrumentation. We were in the middle of a piece with a rocking guitar solo when Rand waved his arms like he was trying to hail a cab at rush hour. We all stopped and gave him the “what the fuck?” look he deserved.

  “Something’s off. Let’s cut the guitar by half and add heavier drums. What do ya think?”

  Isaac and I shared an eye roll while Cory chuckled behind Rand and pulled out his cell.

  “You suck,” Isaac deadpanned.

  Rand gave him a megawatt grin and yanked at his belt loop to throw him off-balance. “I do indeed. Ask Will. In the meantime, let’s try it my way.”

  “Give me five minutes, guys. I need to call Holly back,” Cory announced sheepishly before setting his bass on a stand and heading for the door.

  No one complained. We’d been at it for hours without a break. Isaac said something about using the restroom while I took the opportunity to stretch my legs and check my messages. I scrolled through ones I didn’t care or want to deal with now and went straight to the missed texts from Carter.

  Dinner at my place tonight.

  Is 8 good?

  I smiled at my screen and replied.

  Yes, 8 is good.

  He responded immediately.

  Great. I’m making filet mignon.

  Sounds fancy. I love steak.

  It is fancy. And it’s not steak. It’s filet mignon.

  Which is a kind of steak.

  Your Baltimore is showing.

  I started to type a pithy reply about Upper East Side snobs when I sensed Rand’s stare.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “You. I was just noticing your goo-goo eyes and wondering when you were going to tell me about your new… friend.”

  I put my phone in my pocket and gave him a stern look he misread, if the mischievous grin on his face was any indication.

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Why not? I’m here for you, man. Highs and lows. You can tell me anything. Or nothing. No pressure. I was just noticing you look happy… that’s all.”

  It was a hard statement to refute because he was right. I was happy. And truthfully it was beginning to feel strange not to talk about it. There had never been a need to keep my personal and professional life separate. The two always connected at some point. But now, it felt complicated, which was crazy because these guys were my brothers. Not telling my closest friends about the other person I spent all my time with wasn’t my style.

  I sighed deeply and turned my head before glancing back at Rand, who now looked a little worried. I knew this man as well as he knew me. His creased forehead and puzzled frown were a sure sign he’d badger me for details until he was satisfied I was as happy as I claimed. Part of me wanted to laugh. Rand was an enigma. Under his charismatic rock-star façade, he was a worrier. And he was fiercely protective of the people he cared about most.

  “I’m happy,” I replied. I supplied a neutral smile to assure him, but it spread of its own volition until I probably looked like someone who’d been told they won the lottery.

  “Ahh! Now we’re talking! Tell me all about it.” He beamed, pushing his fingers through his longish hair.

  I shook my head and walked toward the small, rectangular table in the corner to peruse the daily offering of fruits and beverages. The studio staff brought snacks for us every morning. Some items were special requests, like Cory’s gummy bears, and some were basic healthy fare like a bowl of apples and bananas next to carrots and nuts. I grabbed a water bottle and pointed at the Oreos.

  “I thought you were cutting back on that shit.”

  Rand made a silly face and gestured for me to pass a cookie to him. “I have cut back. Will won’t let me buy ’em anymore. He thinks they’re disgusting. Can you believe that? No wonder my mom loves him. His new favorite gadget is a juice maker. He actually tried to convince me I’d love the kale-ginger-cucumber concoction he made this morning.”

  “And?”

  “It was fucking disgusting! I love the guy and everyone knows I will try almost anything once, but I’m not drinking that crap again.” He shivered theatrically for emphasis.

  I cracked up at his antics. My shoulders relaxed slightly. “I don’t blame you.”

  “So… you met someone….” He cocked his head coyly and gave me an expectant nod. “Guy or girl?”

  I grinned, thinking it was pretty cool I had at least one friend who never assumed it was always a woman. Especially now.

  “Guy.”

  “Name?”

  I grimaced, deciding to give the cap on my water bottle my full attention for a moment.

  “That part’s a little different.”

  “Why? Is it something goofy? Archibald or Horatio or—”

  I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “No, idiot. It’s Carter.”

  Rand’s expression didn’t change for a long moment. He knew there was a connection but he wasn’t able to place it immediately. When he did, his eyebrows shot to his forehead.

  “Carter? Like Benny and Zeke’s Carter? The hot guy with the insane abs and—”

  “What do you know about his abs?” I asked with an annoyed look.

  Rand chuckled and threw his hands up in surrender. “Relax, man. Pool party at Benny and Zeke’s last summer. You were invited, but your girlfriend probably had you shackled to a four-poster bed and was keeping you there with a steady diet of rock-star-style sex,” he snarked.

  “Hmm.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… is this a secret?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What kind of answer is that? What is there to know? You’re both single so—”

  “You know it isn’t that easy.”

  “Why not?”

  I huffed in exasperation and launched into a long-winded explanation. “PR told me Miranda made another statement recently, cryptically announcing to her adoring fans that she was feeling better after a rocky first trimester on her own. Cammy thinks she’s going to release her ultrasound as proof and that my best bet is to keep quiet because there’s no way to prove I’m not the baby daddy until the kid is born. If there is a kid in the first place. If I were to suddenly announce I’m seeing a guy, I’d create a bigger shitstorm than the one she’s trying to start.”

  “So you told Cammy about Carter and—”

  “No one knows. You’re the first. Congratulations.” I turned to acknowledge Isaac and Cory with a nod when they entered the room, then gave Rand a serious look. “Don’t say a word. I’m not ready for this.”

  He scowled and opened his mouth to speak, then decided action was more important. He grabbed my arm and pulled me through the door before it closed, yelling a quick “Be right back” to our bandmates.

  “What the fuck are you—?”

  “Shut up and listen. Don’t let her win. If you hide who you are now, you’re going to be a miserable fuck in the long run. We all came out as bi during our first interviews. No one will care if—”

  “Don’t be naïve. People would be surprised, not on my behalf but on hers. The asshole bi guy knocks up a hot chick and leaves her for a man? People don’t get bisexuality, Rand. You know that! They think it’s something you can selfishly turn off and on or choose randomly, like a bagel over an omelet for breakfast.”

  “Who cares what anyone thinks? It’s your life.”

  “Yeah, but it isn’t just me now, is it? The entertainment news won’t focus on me. They’ll make it about Spiral. They’ll come after you and Cory and Isaac. It’s bad publicity at a crucial time. We just cracked open the door, man. I’m not going to be the one to fuck it up.”

  “I’m on your side, Tim. You know we’ll all stand by you, but I
’ve got one thing to say to you. You listening?”

  I leaned against the wall in the empty hallway and tossed a longing look toward the closed studio door.

  “I’m listening.”

  “You can have it all if you’re brave enough to go for it. Don’t be a fucking coward,” Rand snarled.

  I bristled with irritation and knew it was a matter of seconds before I launched at him. I pushed his shoulder hard and glared in warning. “What the fuck do you—?”

  “Play it out. Where’s the song you were going to write? Where’s the fiery, creative drumbeat? If you feel something for this guy… write about it. If you hate what that woman is doing for the sake of publicity… express it. This calm, cool bullshit is insulting to this band. It’s insulting to you! Be yourself or—”

  I cut him off with a hard punch to his left arm. He stumbled back a couple steps in shock but recovered quickly and lunged for my throat. My back hit the wall hard enough to make my head spin for a split second, but it also unleashed a storm of pent-up adrenaline with a venomous bite. I sprang from the wall and went after him. He dodged my first blow to the gut but not the second. When he doubled over in pain, I shoved him to the ground and fell on top of him.

  “Don’t fucking tell me you know. You don’t know shit,” I said in a low, dangerous tone.

  Rand was taller than me, but I was more muscular. I was confident he wasn’t going anywhere without my permission. But I misjudged his lean strength and his temper. He slipped his knee between my legs and used the momentum to roll me onto my back.

  “I know everything. I know about Kat. And Rob. I know why you hide, and I know why it pisses you off. You’re an angry fucker under your clean-cut exterior, Timmy. Get that BS out of your system before it fucks you up good.”