The back wasn’t nearly as organized as I’d expected it to be. A good thing, since no one stopped me or asked me what I was doing wandering around and peering into the separate rooms. Most teams were waiting together and pumping each other up, but when I found Val’s space in the farthest corner of the corridor, he was alone.
I slipped inside to find him sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. He looked up only after I quietly closed the door.
“Ashton, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you fight.” Pressing my back to the door, I didn’t move from the spot he had me pinned to with his dark glare. “I thought you’d want me here.”
“I did, but those fucking assholes are right behind you. It’s not a good idea anymore.”
“I don’t care. I want to support you.”
There was a conflict of emotions warring in Val’s eyes as he stood and loomed over me. My mouth went dry. There was so much else to worry about—why he wanted me gone, if he’d realized I was more trouble than I was worth, if he was sick of apologizing—but once we were facing each other, all I could do was hungrily trace his body. The bumps and valleys of his abdomen, carved chest, the tendons in his neck, and the sweat streaked across his face, which made his wide mouth and sharp cheekbones glisten. He was likely sweaty from warming up.
I wet my lips, inhaling deeply, and the smell of his sweat and musk turned me on. It must have been obvious, because instead of lecturing me, Val was closing the space between us and bracing his hands against the door on either side of my face.
“You wouldn’t return my calls,” he said. “I was terrified that . . . something bad had happened.”
“No,” I whispered. “I was just hiding.”
He leaned in until our faces were so close together it was almost painful to not touch him. “I tried to find you. To call you. I didn’t want to give up, but I didn’t want to pressure you. To make you hate me more.”
My heart wrenched. “I never hated you. I just needed to be away from you. I needed to think.”
He searched my face, his breath coming faster. “And?”
“I’m still confused. And hurt. I still don’t know how much of our relationship was real back then.” I sucked in a ragged breath, swallowing hard. “But I understand why you did what you did. And . . . and even if this doesn’t work, and we’re too different or we’ve hurt each other too much, I still wanted to see you tonight.”
There was a flicker of something in his face, hope maybe, but he buried it.
“Val,” I uttered. “I don’t know what to do—”
The rest of the sentence was lost as his mouth covered mine. As soon as our lips touched, he groaned, and the ability to restrain myself quailed and faded away. I arched off the door, grinding our bodies together and kissing him with a hunger that should have been reserved for a longer absence than a couple of weeks. Despite everything, that time had been enough for my body to be starved for him.
The Yankees cap fell to the floor as Val tangled his fingers in my hair, jerking me against him and sucking on my tongue while I jutted my hips against his. His hands were rough and impatient, his kisses harsh and violent. There was a frantic need in him that I hadn’t felt in all the sex we’d had in our short time together.
“You feel so good,” he whispered into my mouth. “I thought I’d never touch you again.”
I tried to speak, but only a ragged moan came out as he ripped the zipper of my hoodie down and shoved it off my shoulders. He trailed wet kisses along my jaw and down my throat before latching on to the side of it, sucking hard while grinding our dicks together. Any second, I thought he would ease off and shake his head. Tell me we couldn’t do this. He was about to fight. I had to leave. But he didn’t. He was a man possessed, and whoever had taken control of his body wanted me more than anything else. Maybe even at the expense of everything else.
“I want you,” I whispered. “I’ve missed you so bad.”
His eyes darted around the empty locker room. “Now? Here?”
“Now.” My hands dropped to his shorts. “Here.”
The Valdrin from a month ago would have pushed me away and scolded me that this wasn’t the time or place, but this Valdrin was desperate. As a clock ticked loudly overhead, he ripped at my jeans with trembling hands and pulled me over to the bench he’d just occupied. Excitement shot through me, unfurling in my gut and turning into heat that spread to my balls. I was so hard I ached, and I kicked off my jeans without giving a single damn that someone could walk in at any moment.
I sank to my knees before he could change his mind, kissing down his bare chest as he hunched over and held the back of my head. With each wet path I painted down his torso, I expected him to stop me. To plead with me to hold off until later—when we wouldn’t get caught—but he didn’t. He gazed down at me like he worshipped me and whispered, “I don’t deserve you.”
Settling on my knees, I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his silky shorts. “I know. But I still want your dick.” I jerked his shorts and cup down, causing his length to slap against his stomach, and promptly sucked it into my mouth.
“Oh God, yes.”
I looked up at Valdrin through my lashes and watched his head tilt back ever so slightly, saw the way his lips parted, and the arch of his brows. He was so lovely when overwhelmed by my touch. It just made me want to give him more. Deep sucks to blow his mind and weaken his knees, until the wet sound of him plunging in and out dominated the locker room, making it clear he didn’t care about anything but this moment. Even getting caught.
I dragged my tongue all over his length, making sure his dick was as wet as the rest of his body after a workout. When his chest was heaving, his abdomen tight, and balls drawn up, I let the head pop out of my mouth with strings of pre-come and saliva still connecting us.
“Now fuck me.”
Valdrin released a sound somewhere between a growl and a keen, and spun me toward the bench with force he hadn’t used on me since that night over a year ago. He hauled me over the side so my body was pressed against the length of it with my ass up just enough for him to bunch my underwear and yank them to the side. It would have been easier to kick them off altogether, but there was something unbearably hot about him being too impatient to slide them down my thighs, about the ripping sound that cut through our labored gasps and my impatient moans.
“Do it,” I whispered. “Hurry up.”
I heard the rustling of fabric then the fumble of big hurried fingers crinkling plastic. When he fitted himself behind me, the fat crown of his head was covered in a slicked condom as it nudged my hole.
The sound of a shout down the hallway echoed through the door. Val tensed behind me, pressing but not pushing inside.
“Do it,” I whispered. “Please, Valdrin. I need it.”
Val braced his foot on the bench beside me, still positioning his dick while holding the small of my back. “Ashton . . .”
“Please.” I pressed my forehead against the bench, squeezing my eyes shut. “I need it, Valdrin.”
The hand bracing my back slid up in a trembling caress. “Tell me what you need. Tell me why.”
“I need your dick inside me. Fucking me deep.” He pressed in farther, and my mouth filled with saliva at the slight burn of the initial breach. God, he had me drooling. I was so thirsty and depraved. “Fucking me until I can’t think about anything but how perfect you are for me.”
“I don’t want to hurt—”
“Do it. Don’t hold back.”
A liquid groan fell from his mouth, and then he was in me. Inch by inch he slid inside with nothing but the remnants of my sloppy blowjob and his pre-come to ease the way. It hurt. God, it burned. But I’d been split open and taken unprepared enough while lost in the confines of Liberty X to anticipate the delicious wash of pleasure that would hit me as soon as my body relaxed.
And it did.
“Yes.”
That one groaned word was enough to spur him onto a ride that knocked every other thought out of my mind. No more Townsends, no more TTC or Decker, no more gym or Bronson. Just me, Val, his dick, and my sweet spot being drilled until I thought I would die from the pleasure.
I savaged my lower lip, muffling wild cries every time his dick hit just right, and rode back on him greedily. He was so thick that I felt completely full, completely fucked, even as the fabric of my underwear began to chafe my skin. But I didn’t complain, because the pressure building in me was trickling out in the form of droplets from my slit as he lost control.
I loved the slap of our skin, the too-tight grip of his fingers, and the way he’d seemed to have forgotten about his promises to not treat me rough and careless, because his need was too great. And I fucking loved it when he ripped his dick out of my ass to manhandle me to my knees. Because he knew I wanted his come. With my hair falling out of the tie and clinging to my face, I tilted my face up and opened my mouth.
“Yeah,” he hissed, ripping the condom off before stroking his pulsing dick so each stream hit my tongue and lips. “So fucking hot.”
I swallowed him down and licked up the rest all while gazing up at his flushed face and glassy eyes. He listed forward, but then yanked me up for another demanding kiss, this time with traces of his semen still coating my tongue. He sucked it into his mouth like he wanted to taste himself, and jerked me off until I released into his cupped hand.
We stayed locked together long enough for the roar of the crowd to penetrate the walls. It kicked us both into overdrive, and then we were getting dressed and hurrying to the tiny bathroom the fighters shared. Washing up and straightening, trying to remove all evidence that we’d just fucked raw and violent in a locker room.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I said hoarsely.
“Me either.” Val flexed his untaped fists once he was on the bench again. “All of these years of not wanting anyone, and you manage to undo me just by showing up.”
“I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or not.”
“It’s good, Ashton. Just seeing you makes me lose anything resembling control.”
I hid a smile and finished hiding my hair beneath the baseball cap before sitting next to him on the bench. “Are you next?”
“Not yet. There’s a couple more fights ahead of me.” Val braced his arms on his knees. “I usually watch them all.”
“Then why aren’t you tonight? I didn’t see you until Duke was out there.”
Val looked over at me. “I need to keep my head clear. It’s been hard, though.”
“Because of me,” I said. “And everyone knowing about us.”
“No, baby. I mean . . . maybe?” Val sighed and leaned against me, brushing our arms together. “For the past couple of weeks I had to . . . come to terms with the fact that you might hate me. And it really hit me, as Tony yelled at me to forget about it and focus, that I didn’t care about the tournament. I don’t care about any of this. All I wanted was you. And now you’re here . . . but I still don’t know what it means. And, again, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about the fight because I just want to know where we stand. If I have a shot to get you back.”
I sucked in a breath and searched for adequate words but came up short. It was strange how we could lose ourselves in each other one minute and then struggle to find a way to express ourselves to each other in the next.
“We need to talk,” I finally said. “But after the fight. This isn’t a good time.”
“It wasn’t a good time for me to fuck you, but I did it anyway.” Val looked up. “So talk.”
“That’s not why I came dow—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “My head has been screwed since that day at your apartment. You have no idea how many times I told myself to stop thinking about you, to give up and accept that you have enough money to make yourself disappear. That I’d never see you again. Especially after you posted that video on Instagram. I thought I’d lost you. Forever.”
He was watching me so intently that nerves spread through me, overtaking my body until I was jittery and unsteady on the bench. I stood, pacing the room, and shoved my hands in the pockets of my hoodie.
“Did I lose you?” he asked, a desperate edge working its way into his tone.
“No. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you’re here and we just had sex, but is that really a sign of anything other than that we can’t keep our hands off each other?” Val shot to his feet and grabbed me before I could do another round of pacing. “When I first saw you in the crowd, I was so frustrated because that asshole was sitting right there. I know he’d love the opportunity to start some shit. But at the same time, I couldn’t believe I was really seeing you. That after everything I’d done, you’d still come here. Still look at me with so much happiness in your eyes that I wanted to kiss you right there in front of everyone.” He squeezed my arms. “But did you come to support me because you don’t want to toss our friendship along with everything else? Or is there still an everything else?”
I leaned away from him, but his hands were too strong. “Val, can we please not do this now?” I twisted away, but he pulled me close again, pressing me to his broad chest. “I came because you’re my friend, and I love you, and I want you to know that I’m not going to hold it against you. I understand why you did it. And I believe that you’re sorry.” The relief in his expression was too much to bear, so I looked down even as he cupped my face with his large hands. “But it hurts. I’ve been rethinking everything, and I worry that . . . maybe I don’t really know you. Maybe none of this is real. Or I’m too stupid to know what’s real and what’s not.” A dry laugh escaped me. “You’ve always said I’m a poor judge of character.”
“Not about me,” he said urgently. “Not about us.”
“How can you say that after everything? You lied to me for years.”
Val finally released me. He turned away, and this time it was him pacing the small room.
“And besides that,” I went on. “This thing between us has only caused problems for you and for me. Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”
“That’s bullshit,” he exploded, slamming his fist into a locker. It sunk beneath his fist, and blood dotted his knuckles. “Those days we spent together were the only time I felt happy. I felt whole.” Val pointed in my face with his bloody hand. “Maybe it’s easy for you to chalk this up as some mistake and say we can just go back to being friends, but I can’t do it. I love you. I need you. And even if you’ve sold yourself on this idea that we’re not right for each other, or we’re toxic for each other, I haven’t. No matter how battered and bruised I get, I’ll keep fighting for you.”
My back straightened. “I’m not giving up on you, Val. But if you can honestly tell yourself that being with me, the rich party boy with the hard-core sex tape, won’t hurt your career in the long run, then you’re lying to yourself. You know I don’t belong with you. That’s why you took the money and the job.” I steeled myself against his denials and his anger. “You thought I’d get lost in the world of partying and modeling, and that we would have both moved on by now. Outgrown each other. And I’m not sure if it’s a good thing that we haven’t.”
Val stood in front of me, arms dangling at his sides.
“You always said you wanted me to be honest with myself and the people around me. And that’s what I’m trying to do now.” I backed toward the door, fingers locking together. “I do love you, Val, but it’s not worth it to be together if we’ll only hurt each other. I’m tired of hurting. And I’m tired of my lifestyle and my persona and all the gossip being a problem. I’m sick of worrying about my life ruining yours.”
At long last, Val lowered his eyes and nodded. “I got you.”
“Really? You really understand?”
“Yeah. I do. And even though you’re trying to push me away, the fact that you’re saying all this shit is just making me love you even more.”
A surprised laugh burst from my mouth but it was choked up. “Get ready for your fight, okay? We’ll talk more later. I promise.”
Val looked ready to protest, but he shook himself. “Ashton, you gotta go. And take Hana with you.”
“Why? Bronson was behind me the entire time and nothing really happened.”
“Because I’m not in the ring with his boy yet. Trust me on this. Just go.”
Val’s fight with Luis began a while later, and his eyes immediately landed on me when he stepped outside. He’d known I wouldn’t listen.
“He’s pissed,” I muttered to Hana. “I can tell.”
“He is,” she agreed. “But I appreciate you staying with me. I can handle these boys, but I’m a lot more comfortable doing it when I have backup.”
I hadn’t mentioned that her brother had instructed me to take her out of the gym with me. I knew Hana did not take too kindly to anyone giving her an order.
“Besides, since Matt already fought, I’m only here to see Val. Once this fight is over, we’re gone,” she added.
“Sounds good.”
There was an end in sight to the awkwardness of a known homophobe constantly leaning over with the intent to antagonize me, and that very briefly allowed my shoulders to relax. I focused all my attention on Val as he strode up to the ring.
I’d seen Val train, but I’d never seen him with taped knuckles and gloves, wearing shorts that read Cadet on the waistband, with his face etched in stone. There were no smiles from Val. No glances at the crowd or small talk made with his team. Just his trainer speaking urgently into his ear as a couple of other guys on his team huddled nearby. Val nodded shortly, listening intently.
“I’ve never been to one of his fights before,” I murmured. “I’m nervous.”
Hana squeezed my knee. “I used to be, but Val is good. Trust me. You wouldn’t think it because of how little he talks about it, but . . . he loves the sport more than the damn fights.”
“What does that mean, though?”
“It means he’s a smart, calculating fighter even though he doesn’t care about competing,” she said. “He knows how to look for openings and find weaknesses. He’d make a damn good trainer one day.”
Nodding, I couldn’t help wondering whether we could work together to convince him to stop forcing himself to go through this and find work as a coach instead.
The crowd around us cheered again, and I saw Luis coming out. I couldn’t help but smile when Luis strutted in wearing his silky shorts designed with the Dominican Republic flag before facing off. He winked at Val’s stone face, but his grin vanished once they tapped gloves. The fight began with Val’s fist slamming square into his face.
Luis staggered, seemingly stunned.
My heart stopped. Was it really going to be over this quickly? Behind me, Bronson leaped to his feet and bellowed about it having been a cheap shot. The rage in his voice sent a chill down my spine.
“Fuck this,” he shouted, voice filling the gym. “This is fucking bullshit.”
I cringed and hunched forward to wrap my arms around myself. Part of me prayed that Luis would steady himself. I didn’t want to know how Bronson would react if his friend lost within ten seconds of the fight starting. And . . . I didn’t want to know how he’d take it out on me and Hana—two targets positioned right in front of him.
No wonder Val had wanted me to leave.
Luis shook his head to clear it, bounced in place, and then gave the ref a nod. He was back in the fight.
Going forward, Luis took it slow. Danced out of the way of Val’s advances, dodged blows that should have sent him flying back on his ass, and was very obviously studying his opponent. Except unlike Val’s cold, calculating method of fighting, Luis was smirking the whole time. His face lit with a huge grin when he cuffed Val’s chin, and he was clearly delighted to send Val crashing to his knees with a two-hit punch to his stomach.
“Glass gut,” Bronson boomed behind me. “Kill that fucking pussy, Luis! You better not let a faggot whoop you!”
I whipped my head around and glared. “You’re a real psycho, you know that?”
“Am I not being PC enough for you?” he sneered. “Maybe if you cheered a little harder, your man wouldn’t be getting his ass kicked.”
Hana’s loud cheer filled the air beside me. She had leaped to her feet and was shouting at the ring as Val weaved left, avoided a blow, and then came back with a right hook to Luis’s forehead, followed by a jab to his chin and a strike to his side. Luis stumbled back for the second time.
“Yes,” I shouted. “Go Val! Kick his ass!”
“‘Go Val,’” Bronson mimicked. “You make a shitty cheerleader.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t make team captain the way you did in high school,” I retorted.
Bronson’s friends cackled to each other. This time, instead of letting it slide, Bronson grabbed my hood and yanked me backward.
“Hey,” I shouted. “Let go!”
The words cut off in a gag as he dragged me over the back of the bleachers and up to where he was sitting. Panic exploded like the scrabble of a hundred spiders crawling over me, and I struggled against him. The people around us turned their attention from the fight to the spectacle we were making as he forced me to sit on his lap with one muscular arm clamped around me.
“What the hell are you doing, Bronson?” Hana demanded. “I thought you were too scared to get that close to another boy.”
He kicked the back of the step she sat on. “Mind your fucking business while I teach your brother’s bitch how to make some real noise.”
“For fuck’s sake,” one of his friends muttered. “You’re doing the most.”
Bronson held me tighter. “Bitch boy doesn’t mind. He’s used to people holding him down.”
Anger soared through me, boiling my blood, until I was burning hot in the layers I’d worn. In all of the parties I’d attended over the years, the drunken drug-fueled drama fests, I’d honestly heard worse. I’d had guys hold me down and try to force me to do whatever they wanted because they’d assumed it was okay. And because they’d wanted to try me out. I’d had other people poke and prod in the hopes of getting a reaction only to leave disappointed when I smiled and laughed along, at my own expense.
But this time I couldn’t take it. All I’d wanted was to cheer for Val, and Bronson was fucking it up.
I slammed my elbow back into his neck and leaped off his lap, but the assault had been more of a glancing blow than a direct hit and had little effect. Bronson grabbed me again and used my ponytail to force my head to the side.
“Watch the fight. And this time I’ll be sitting right here when you decide to make some noise.”
Panting and frustrated, I strained against him once more before sagging in defeat. He had eighty pounds on me easy, and all I was doing was making a scene. The people around us were watching, and way across the gym, I saw the flash of a camera.
Fuck.
The paps had found me.
“Let go,” I whispered again. “Your stupid face will be all over the internet tomorrow.”
Bronson’s grip loosened. “Huh?”
I thrust a hand in the direction of the paparazzi, but my eyes landed on the ring again. My heart stopped.
At some point Val had looked up, and his face had contorted with rage as he stared at me and Bronson. He turned his body toward us, took two steps forward, and then Luis advanced on him with lightning speed and a brutal punch to the side of Val’s head. The enraged look slackened as Val slowly turned to face Luis. He took one step forward, then another, and then he crumpled to the mat.
“No!” I shouted. “Fuck!”
Hana jumped to her feet and launched herself over the bleachers to get to her brother while Bronson laughed in my ear. He was laughing so hard that he was causing my entire body to shake even as tears welled in my eyes. Through the dampness, I saw Luis squat beside Val with a frown as Hana rushed up to the ring. People were talking and the ref was kneeling besides Val, but he wasn’t moving.
More lights flashed across the gym before being joined by other cameras at various angles.
Just as the ref called the fight, a pap sprinted up the bleachers and the light of his camera exploded in my face.
Bronson stopped holding on to me, and I jumped out of his lap.
“Fuck you,” I shouted, and reared my hand back. The punch wasn’t as hard as I’d wanted it to be, but it still felt good to see him fall backward. And it felt even better to shoulder past the photographer so hard that he dropped his camera.
The entire gym was a sea of blurred lights and faces, and a rush of loud noises, as I stumbled to the ring. Inside, Val was sitting up but still seemed woozy and disoriented as Luis looked on with his arms crossed over his chest. I started forward, but a strong hand grabbed my upper arm and yanked me back.
I whirled around, ready to unleash my wrath on someone else, but found myself face-to-face with Tony.
“You already cost him the fight,” he spat. “Haven’t you done enough?”
Without waiting for an answer, Tony pushed me away from the ring before climbing up himself. He ducked beneath the ropes and stood with the rest of the team by Val, who was now shaking his head and speaking. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, and I didn’t get close enough to try.
Tony was right.
Instead of listening to Val when he’d told me to go home, I’d stayed around and caused him to lose.
I walked backward, edging away from the gym, just as Val sat up enough to search the crowd. I knew he was looking for me, and hoped he wouldn’t find me, but he saw me almost as soon as he got to his feet. Unsteady, with blood streaming from a cut near his swollen eye, he’d effortlessly spotted me in a crowd of over three hundred.
My heart caved in as our gazes locked.
Again, he mouthed something, but this time it wasn’t leave. It was wait.
But I couldn’t. Tony was right. I’d done enough.
“I’m sorry,” I said miserably, hoping he could read my lips, before turning and fleeing the gym.