Danke, Reed! This was a messy one....
Please check out my other stories if you enjoy this one, the Discerning Palate and Creative Employment, also in Adult Friends.
All three stories can be found on my website, www.noelblue.com or in my Yahoo group, http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NBstories/, where I post first!
Criticisms and feedback always welcome - thank you for reading!
That electric feeling of almost desperate need washed over me as we rolled on the bed. Zane's body on mine felt so good, warm, lean and strong. My erection was instant and damn I wanted him. Everything in me wanted to remove his pants as quickly as possible and get down, worship him, ignore my doubts.
Thus my body completely disagreed with my mind's initial decision to push against him, breaking the kiss and causing him to pull back, his expression initially startled; a flash of what might have been hurt then settling into a weary concern. "Ethan..."
I was sure that this wasn't going to work; he fucked me up too much. I couldn't trust he wouldn't keep screwing with my head while barely screwing with my body. And even if he did plan to have sex - I mean, we WERE just heading in that direction, I guess - if the price for sex with Zane Butler was going to be my sanity and emotional well-being, I wasn't willing to pay it.
Before he had pulled me down on the bed and I had been looking down at him, his face raw and confused, my head hurt and my chest felt empty. Oh, god, it was so obvious, I'd always known it somewhere, but I was truly and deeply obsessed with Zane. I was screwed, completely. Possibly from the first moment I saw him stalking about on stage.
So now, after he had just basically treated me like crap for 24 hours, I couldn't ignore the fact I thought about him constantly, unhealthily.
Yet here I was.
By staying I was inviting the possibility he was going to continue to treat me like crap. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't who I wanted to be. There was a cynical, bitter little voice that sounded an awful lot like my mom's drunken one somewhere in my head, after my dad had left.
"Look, Zane, I'm..." I took a deep breath, trying to find words for my confusion. "I'm freaking out." I stared at him, almost pleading. "What the hell is going on here?"
Note what came out of my mouth did not match the almost angry certainty of what went through my mind.
He was a moody SOB, and Murphy's Law (also Ms. Diane Moeller's) was that most men sucked, although at the time she was trying to teach me not to suck personally. Also, another serious downside of the Zane I had known the last 24 hours was that he didn't always let me touch him. It destroyed me when were together and I couldn't touch him.
But this was tied into why I wasn't out the door yet. It was very simple, really. Although a flame of strength reared up and showed me that staying here was a bad idea, a flame of equal strength roasted my brain cells to the point of disfunction.
And then I'd fold like a cheap shirt. I thought how I'd rather those arms were around me as opposed to folded uncomfortably at his chest, how I wanted to taste him, and DAMN my body was now unhappy with me for pushing him away.
Staying where I am Staying where I am Don't MOVE.
Zane ran his large, lean hands through his dark hair, and made a conflicted expression. "God, I've fucked up."
Not something I could disagree with. His hair was mussed, his shirt was open at the neck and I could see a hint of his chest. The desire to reach forward and making that more than a visible hint made my fingers and my confused erection twitch. I wanted those legs wrapped around me, stat. His fingers on my ass and my cock.
He took a deep breath, and stared at me intently, firmly. My heart did something funky. "Ethan. Do you want to stay?"
"I have no idea." I didn't elaborate. The words didn't come, so it just sat there. He made a noise like a groan. How ridiculous a response that was hit me too late - like that verbal dance we did back in Chicago. He'd asked me a straightforward question. I should give him my best attempt at a straightforward answer. Zane's face was so sexy when full of emotion.
My will broke, and without being able to stop myself I put my hand at that damned shirt opening, and stared at my fingers on his chest, touching the cleft between his pecs. I heard his breathing deepen, but he stayed still.
"I don't KNOW. Yes. No. If, damn it, I was smart... no. Definitely no. I can't stand you..." his skin was warm, touching his breastbone, I could feel the heat, "ignoring me again. Listening to Rick snarl at me again." I shook my head, and snagged my fingers on his first button, finally looking up. "I don't think I'm very smart, though, because I'm not gone yet. I'm not very smart with you."
"You're smarter than me." Zane's left hand came up and encircled my wrist, long fingers stroking my skin. Then he lifted my hand to his lips, kissing the side of my palm, lupine eyes watching me intently. "I meant what I said, I invited you here to be with me. The thought... of not seeing you for 3,4 months, it bothered me." That was hard for him to say, I could tell, it came out so fast and surprised. It was hard for me to breath. "And you said you wanted to come to Europe... I wanted to see you here, happy, seeing things for the first time. And then I fuck it up."
He put his hands to the side of my face, running them back through my hair. I stared at him. Was he talking? I as having trouble concentrating. "I know I'm going to have to do a lot to un-fuck up, to keep you here for a bit, but I'm going to try, if you're going to stay."
When he kissed me, I didn't exactly resist. Maybe I threw myself into it. Perhaps my fingers somehow were undoing his shirt of their own accord.
"So..." He said it with a touch of true worry but also with his voice pitched low, that deep purr that I was starting to wonder if he knew exactly what it did to me. Not that I lingered very long on that thought, what with his lips running up the side of my chin at that point. "are you staying?"
Persistent, twisty, beautiful pain in the ass...
I didn't say anything for a moment, having successfully gotten rid of that pesky barrier that had stood before me and large amounts of his flesh, running my palms up it, noting in my head that this was the first time I'd had access since I'd come to Europe. Such a junkie.
"I wish you'd have let me done this as soon as I got here," my voice was a bit distracted even to me, finding a dark, perfect nipple, tweaking it, feeling the twitch of the lean, firm, muscle underneath. I looked up and our eyes met. "That wasn't fun."
He chuckled despite his furrowed brow, and crawled forward, pushing me down gently, his groin on mine. I moaned lowly and arched my hips into his as my hands scrambled downwards, wanting so badly to be naked with him. "I was a very stupid man to think I could play self-control games with myself with you around. It... oh, god," I'd successfully reached his underwear, black cotton, and my fingers slipped up the leg, gripping his cock, loving the texture and that perfect hair at the base. It swelled in my hand, and he pulsed into my touch.
Zane grabbed the back of my head, almost violently, and gazed down at me so intense I couldn't breath. Our faces were millimeters apart. "You are so much trouble for me, you know that, Moeller?" There was an undercurrent of warmth, of - affection? - that did that strange thing to my chest again.
"Ditto," I breathed back, almost defiantly, and he laughed out loud before kissing me.
We crushed together, hands going everywhere, starting almost slowly and then becoming frantic, like we were finally solidly aware the other wasn't going anywhere. Or, at least, that's how it felt to me.
Finally finally FINALLY something in me yelled, so embarrassingly happy to have Zane near- no, not near, now, him helping my clawing hands push down his pants completely and then practically ripping the shirt off me, causing an unintentionally hilarious moment when it got caught on my arms in our general tangle. We were laughing as we went down.
Zane, with a mischievous small smile, eyes on me the whole time, did an abbreviated version of my body worship of him the last time we'd had sex, running his teasing lips up my now rock hard shaft. "You know.." he breathed, "I don't think I've ever told you how sexy naked you are. You're gorgeous clothed, but this -" his tongue ran up my cock, licking the head. "Is so damn beautiful."
I'd never been particularly overly obsessed with the my size - any more than the next guy, I guess, but Scott had made me feel much better by expressing his straight guy disappointment that mine was bigger than his at some stupid point in high school - but hearing Zane talking about it like it was something special was the ultimate turn-on. It wasn't as big as his, but it wasn't much shorter, and... I guess just knowing he found it hot was incredible. Especially after believing he barely wanted to touch me.
He brought his fingers to his mouth, and wet them, running them down my cock before his other hand wrapped around my body, squeezing my glut, which I flexed in response. "You also have the sexiest ass I've ever possibly seen," he teased, and then a finger slipped between my checks, gently playing with my hole.
I gasped and arched, taken by surprise, never having felt that before.
"Relax," Zane was kissing my thigh, "Don't clench, I want to feel you."
If the man hadn't been a singer he would have had a hell of a career as a gay phone sex operator. Maybe as an audio book reader of erotic stories.
I took a deep breath which ended as a gasp, as he slipped a finger inside me at the same time as his lips slipped around my cock, a combo of sensations I'm not sure I'd survive.
The feeling of Zane's finger as it slipped confidently in and out of my ass was strange, uncomfortable, and every time he hit my prostrate close to overwhelming. As his second finger joined it I squirmed, but also tried to both fuck his mouth and his digits at the same time.
Pressure built behind my ears and it become almost unbearable, and then quickly followed by truly unbearable. "Zane," I croaked, and his lips moved faster, and so did the motion of his fingers.
It was the most violent orgasm I'd ever had, bucking and exploding and I think yelling. He held me down as I shuddered, not letting me go, I felt the movements of his throat as he swallowed. His fingers didn't leave me until he was done. And I didn't want them to leave me at all.
"Damn, you're tight," he admired, pulling himself up my body. "I can't tell you how much I want to be inside you where my fingers just were..." he said it at the same time he ran a tongue on my nipple, and I sighed contently.
"That felt amazing." I ran my finger down his tight stomach, and contracted my throat, needing a moment to make myself say it, "I really want you to fuck me, too. If it feels anything like that -"
His eyes snapped to mine, and his body tensed up so quickly I twitched. "You're a virgin?" Zane's voice had suddenly gone up in volume, like he was truly shocked. His eyes were huge.
I sunk into the pillows behind me as much as I could. "Uh, yes?"
He just stared at me.
I shouldn't have said anything. Did it matter so much? Was it important to him?
"Zane?" His protracted silence was worrisome.
"I'm... surprised, I guess." He tilted his head at me, eyes thoughtful, "With your looks and the fact you're out... I just... it's not what I was expecting." his praise was making me uncomfortable, and yet it also made me feel warm, and attractive. "You're pretty sexually confident, in your way."
"Only with you," I returned, and it was such a blatant truth, and so hard to admit, I clamped my mouth shut and stopped meeting his eyes. "Anyway, I want you to fuck me, it doesn't matter if I'm a virgin." God, please don't make me beg, I thought with a touch of amusement, I just might.
"Fuck," Zane swore, "Fuck. This is what I get for being an idiot..." He sounded truly, deeply frustrated.
"No condoms?" I had to admit I was disappointed. Achingly so.
"No, because I didn't want to think too much about having sex with you, it keyed me up. And maybe I knew the second I got you and it into the same room, there was no way I wasn't going to fuck you." I must have been staring at him in a particularly vexed way because he looked bemused and a bit ashamed. "Not very intelligent." I felt a bit better seeing it wasn't easy for him to admit. "You neither?" He counter teased.
I chewed on the inside of my mouth. "I didn't know if I could bring them through customs." I could feel myself blush. This was actually something I considered, but with the liquid issues of lube and not wanting to get in trouble and...
He lifted an eyebrow.
"I've never been out of the country before!" I protested. "How should I know!"
He laughed, and pulled me towards him. "Damn, you're cute. And goddamn sexy, and fuck I want to fuck you... and... you're a damn virgin."
"So what?" I challenged, even more embarrassed. I narrowed my eyes at him, and climbed further on his lap, feeling his erection under my ass. "Does that make me unattractive?" I was feeling bold, but it was an honest concern. My lack of experience wasn't something I was proud of.
"No," he voice was amused and equally challenging, and he bucked up with teasing reproach and I ground into where he met my ass cheeks automatically, "but I'm not going to rip you open without lube and a condom. Despite, mmm," I was chewing on his ear. "More than kinda... wanting to..." His face turned and his lips met mine. "Patience."
"...is overrated." I was possibly pouting.
He laughed. "Fuck, yeah, it is. But I'll make it up to you." His eyes got cloudy as I rocked onto his hardness systematically. "You need to stop that, or you're going to be in a lot of pain tomorrow, no matter how much I talk about patience." he warned.
"But I WANT you to." Yes, I was being stupid, and asked in a moment of lucidity I would tell you someone doing what I was doing was an idiot. Hormones are pretty frighteningly blinding like that.
"Ethan..." He was pleading now, and I knew - maybe perhaps - he was right.
I shifted off his cock, and he made a noise not unlike a sigh.
Before he could lose his erection I moved swiftly - surprising him - and buried my face in his cock, loving his musky Zane-ness, running my tongue up the slight ridges of his ball sac and mouthing them before moving upwards, hands on his legs and running my lips up his shaft teasingly before taking him all in.
This more than made up for the fact I couldn't do what I so completely wanted to that morning. His drawn out moan of my name rippled on my skin, as did his hand on my hair. He propped up on his elbow to watch me and his head lolled back.
It was so awesome to feel him come. It scared me how much I wanted to please him.
Not long afterwards I lay there, thinking. We'd not talked for a bit, each lost in our thoughts. Skin touching skin. Comfortable.
Wasn't I going to leave oh, an hour ago? Maybe less? Wow, seemed like years ago.
Nothing we had just done answered some of my fundamental questions. WHY had Zane been so distant for a while? "I confused him" just confused me; didn't explain much. If he wanted me so badly why had he resisted me when I first arrived?
Also, 'keep me here for a bit', he'd said when all I could think of was how quickly to get him naked... what did that mean? How long was a bit?
How long could I AFFORD to be there? Even if I didn't spend much money I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing intensely all summer - earning funds for school.
"Mmmmm?" He turned his head with a small smile, a quirky thing that made me want to jump him again. One eye was covered by his hair and he looked tired. I couldn't believe I was there, with him.
I was going to tell him that I'm not sure if I could take it again if he rejected me like he had before. That if he did, I was going to end up a puddle of broken emotions for a good long time, after tonight. But as his hand played lazily on my chest it hit me that would probably be a mood killer, and wasn't really necessary to say. I didn't want the mood to suddenly get all heavy. And I didn't want to complain about money. He might think that I was looking for a handout. He really did seem to be effortlessly generous, and that made me really, truly uncomforable.
Right now, Right here, was everything I could want, right? This was what I had wanted out of this trip. Everything else, including money, reality, what the fuck I'd gotten myself into - this I could deal with later.
"Damn it!" He suddenly swore, and with a flash of movement he had half-risen and wrestled me down. I 'oof'ed' in surprise as he pinned me while his eyes bore into mine. "You!"
"Me?" I was puzzled, and breathless. He was also partially hard, which didn't help me concentrate.
"What were you going to say?"
"You lie badly." He kissed me savagely, tongue sparring with mine. I lifted up, burying a hand in his hair. He lifted his head. "I also don't believe someone as sensual as you are -" he kissed the side of my mouth and I made a pleased sound. "-is only like this with me."
"Maybe you opened the door," I teased, embarrassed again at the admission and my lack of experience. "And this is just the beginning. I'll be out trolling the streets in no time, just watch." I wasn't even slightly serious. The thought of touching anyone else was completely unappealing at that moment. Or anyone else fucking me.
The expression that flashed over Zane's face was deadly serious, and beautifully intense. "I hope not," he growled, and before I could respond had me wrestled down again, caught in a tangle of limbs and hands.
I couldn't even remember what it was I was so worried about a minute before.
All the concerns came back in the morning, of course. But I tucked them away, labeling them and promising myself I'd watch for issues. Or I did my best, since it was harder to distract myself without Zane touching me in some manner or another.
When Zane slipped out in the morning I was mostly still asleep, although I do remember him gently running his fingers through my hair and me trying briefly to talk and falling asleep again. It had been a better sleep than what I'd had last night, that was for sure.
I finally woke up at around 9:30 to a phone call from Zane telling me he'd meet me in the lobby in half an hour, if that was okay - Waking up that late was rare for me, but, hell, what with jetlag and being in a new country maybe my body would adjust to the late-night thing quickly enough. His voice had a question mark in it, and I wondered why until he asked, "So are you staying for a while?"
My mind sorted slowly through the question and the options. I'd largely considered it a done deal, but maybe I hadn't made that clear. "Um... yes, if that's okay?"
"How many times are you going to make me ask you, Mr. Moeller?" his voice was dry. I think it was humor. Dealing with this before I had really powered up was difficult, but it was waking me up fast. I started to apologize, and he laughed and said he'd see me soon.
Riddle. The man was a riddle.
I shuffled into the shower and shuffled into clothes.
Nice, new, shiny clothes that did make me feel better about myself. It wasn't like I had ever been much of a clothes whore. But when I was around people like the members of Snowborne, and going to places like the club last night... I did my hair with extra care, packed my new and very cool-looking messenger bag carefully, so it hung flat. It was bloody expensive.
On the way down I struggled with an insecurity that was still an unhappy unknown: The band. Or to be more exact, Rick and Jarod. And...
Charisse. She who didn't matter. Damn, I'd forgotten about her. And yet I believed Zane, after seeing them together, that she didn't matter much. Didn't mean I liked her.
I took a deep breath before walking into the lobby, putting a big smile on my face. I hoped it wasn't cheesy.
There they were. Photo-shoot ready as always. Dustin smiled, dressed in a yellow T-shirt and dark jeans. Erica gave me a look that was guarded but friendly. Charisse, thank god, wasn't there.
Rick and Jarod ignored me. Well, except for that special, sideways sneer of Rick's. His face was puffy where Zane had hit him, but mostly covered by his page-boy-punk hair.
Zane, in jeans, a gray coat and a blue shirt all done loose but damn sexy. He was talking to Dustin and he turned to me - with that blank, opaque expression of his. THAT expression, the one that gave me an instant headache.
I felt everything in me tense, and my smile falter. Rick, in his sharply observant way, seemed to sense the interaction and a small, triumphant smile started on his lips.
Plan B started to form in my head. Turn to Erica. Tell her, in front of everyone, I was ready to go. Sort out the evidence that Zane was actively humiliating me la-
And then he smiled, and it was blinding, and warm. His conversation with Dustin stopped short and he took a couple of steps forward. "Hey." He put a hand on my arm, and squeezed gently. "Ready to go?"
Wow, it felt good to see the startled anger flair up on Rick's face. When did I turn into such an asshole? Jarod's was that same old disgust, and I wondered if it was as simple as the fact we were both men. But even Dustin looked surprised.
Erica, somehow, did not. She looked thoughtful more than anything else.
"Um..." God, I hope I wasn't blushing. "Where are we going?"
"You and I are going to breakfast."
"What the fuck?" Rick burst out. "We have a full fucking day before tonight!" A hotel employee walking by gave him a dirty look, with an edge of a check-out. He just ignored her.
"Not really," Erica interjected smoothly. "At least, not until we have to meet the producers for the soundtrack single at 2. Zane is the only one of you squirrels I trust to let out of my sight before something like that." Her smile at Zane was directed and wry, but warm. "You'll be on time, won't you?"
"Of course I will," it wasn't quite a purr, but it was close. Why did I have feeling they had talked somehow in the interim from when he left me and now?
"Great. The rest of us, we're checking out the venue, going to get the gear over there."
"I feel like a fucking puppy made to follow his owner around." Jarod grumbled. "We're up this early WHY again?"
"You wish you were as cute as a puppy, Jarod," Erica sniffed. "We do actually have things to do. And if we let you roam free you'd pee on the sidewalk and get hit by a car."
Jarod just made a goofy, half-angry face at her, and she rolled her eyes broadly.
Rick was silent. He was just staring intently at Zane, daggers tempered by a question mark, somehow oddly unguarded. It took me a moment, but there was something disturbing about his expression, something... almost familiar.
Then it hit me.
"No shit," I whispered to myself. Zane turned to look at me, puzzled.
I shook my head. "Nothing, just remembered something." Did Zane know?
"Have your phone?" Erica lifted her eyebrows at Zane. "We'll want to keep in touch."
Zane patted his pants, and swore. "No. One second." He sprinted towards the elevators, and I tried not to watch his ass in his jeans.
"He always does that," Erica whispered conspiratorially. I laughed.
"Have your sketchbook with you?" Dustin asked politely. "If you're joining us later, you'll probably be pretty bored without it."
I was touched that he even remembered I was an artist. "Yeah... I always have it." I gave him a warm smile.
Rick caught my eye and something approximating loathing shone through his piercing gaze. But this time I didn't look away; didn't have any desire to. Wow. It was so obvious now. How could I not have noticed it before? I guess I'd been distracted by his attitude towards me, so wasn't paying much attention to his attitude towards Zane. Damn.
Erica seemed to catch it, narrowed her eyes, and turned towards the exit. "Come on, boys, let's get going. Bye, Ethan, see you later." Dustin waved, and Jarod just shuffled off in procession. He did have kinda a puppy quality, actually.
Rick started to turn away and then stopped himself, his light eyes boring into mine, and his almost iconic snarl. "You must give one hell of a blow job, brat. But you know what?"
I stared at him, curious. "What?"
"I'm going to make sure your life fucking SUCKS while you're here." The snarl turned into a parody of a smile, razor-sharp and full of contempt. "Just so you know." He started to turn away, obviously satisfied he'd gotten his point across.
"How long have you been in -" He stopped at my voice and I hesitated, deciding that was maybe too strong a way to phrase it, even if it was true, and decided to rephrase, "have you had a thing for Zane?"
There was a heartbeat before he responded. Surprise and rage mingled in his face, and his skinny body tensed up. "Fuck you," he hissed.
"Something wrong?" Zane was suddenly there, a warning in his deceptively mild tone.
Rick gave him an angry up-down, flashed his eyes to me, and stalked towards the door.
"Rick!" Zane caught up to him, and grabbed his arm. Rick whirled, and spat something out that I couldn't hear, the ambient music cutting across the divide between us. Violently shaking his arm out of Zane's grasp he left, his whole body radiating anger.
Watching him, I wondered what I had done, not feeling tough anymore; it was a stupid thing to do, on hindsight. I hadn't meant to ask Rick that... but it had just slipped out. What the hell was he going to say to that? It was a shitty thing to ask. But he was someting of a shitty guy.
Zane came back to my side, expression tight.
"What did he say?" Did I want to know?
Zane's eyes were narrowed. "That he thought I was one fucked up dude, letting you stay." He looked down at me thoughtfully. "Maybe he's right." And then he leaned into my ear, and I was definitely blushing, my pulse instantly racing. "But if being fucked up gets me you, bring it on." And then his lips brushed my lobe before he pulled away.
Somehow, I didn't hate Rick like I used to.
I sorta understood.
To be Continued....