Perched on his hard-sided rolling suitcase, River tried not to shift his weight too much. He’d already once nearly rolled down the gently sloping sidewalk in front of his apartment building into the storm drain. His gym bag with his costumes and drag kit sat by his side.

All he was missing was his ride.

Taking one car with Zeph to Vegas sounded fantastic, yet terrifying. They weren’t even driving in convoy to Vegas, so it was really just the two of them. And being alone with his ex for four hours? That was a recipe for disaster. Zeph was the only ex River would have said yes to, and even now, he was reconsidering that idea.

River had his ankle crossed over his knee, and he couldn’t stop nervously jiggling his foot.

They’d been getting along fine—more than fine, if last night was any indication—at the club, but this was different.

He tried to look on the bright side: it was a chance to catch up on life.

Then, he worried again. What was he going to tell him? What the hell had he done in the last five years? He hadn’t gone back to school, hadn’t discovered the cure for cancer, hadn’t made the newspaper for anything. Jesus, was he going to come off as a total loser?

River nearly sprang to his feet when an engine purred nearby, smoothing his skirt down. It was going to be a hot drive, so he’d gone with a skirt and thigh-high stockings, and a flowery men’s tank top—the obnoxious kind that showed off his nipples from the side. He’d be glad to get into the shade of the car, at least.

It had been a while since he’d been hiking outdoors, which he normally loved. All kinds of outdoorsy things, really, but he just hadn’t made time lately. His heat tolerance had clearly suffered for it.

Zeph’s car was a beaten-up old black thing, but it still sounded like it ran fine, which was all River cared about. He half-considered proposing they switch cars to his own pride and joy, and the result of several years of private makeup lessons—his little red Mazda—but he didn’t want to sting Zeph’s pride. Besides, he didn’t want to test out Vegas car thieves.

“Well, hello.” Zeph unbuckled and pushed open the door, then stepped out of the driver’s seat. He reached for the gym bag.

River grinned. “Hey. Are you seriously taking my luggage?”

Zeph’s eyes widened. He paused and blushed, the bag by his side. He slowly lowered it to the pavement. “No…?”

“Aw. My knight in…” River eyed the car. “Is that a very dark blue or black?”

“Blue.” Zeph rolled his eyes when he realized River was teasing and tossed the bag in the back seat before River hefted his suitcase in after it.

“In blue armor,” River finished, closing the door and striding around to the passenger side.

“And my maiden in, uh. Whatever you call that,” Zeph gestured down at River in a broad circle, then slid into the driver’s seat.

River buckled up and shut his door, then smirked. “Legs.”

“Smartass.”

“You know it.” The car was cool, but not ice cold. River had chosen his outfit well. “I figured the drive would be hot if we get in the sun.”

“Yeah, no, smart.” Zeph was in a t-shirt and jeans—again. Did the man wear anything else?

Yes, his brain supplied and reminded him of the visual of him in his training shorts, shirtless and sweaty.

As they pulled out onto the road, it occurred to River that Zeph didn’t seem even a little nervous to see him. Zeph even made small talk about traffic and the cost of gas, and River’s heart sank.

Their last meeting, at the show, there had been something there. A moment between them. He’d seen it—Zeph’s fingers on his zipper, his gaze flickering down to his lips like he wanted to taste them.

And yeah, River had a strict no exes policy, but… five years ago? For a week and a half? Zeph barely counted as an ex. If they hadn’t been goddamn interrupted, River would have gone for it.

He waited to see if Zeph would mention it, but by the time they were out of the goddamn snarl of L.A. traffic and on the 15 eastbound, Zeph still hadn’t brought up that moment.

Why was he disappointed? This ought to make it easier to avoid fucking the guy when it was supposed to be strictly professional. Well, mostly professional. Flirting didn’t count. And yeah, he could try mentioning it himself, but that was beside the point. He wanted Zeph to acknowledge it if he felt it, too.

It didn’t take long before his brain-mouth filter failed him, though. They weren’t even halfway through the drive before the hookup stories started. And even when they tried to change subjects, sex seemed to creep into the conversation.

Maybe it was River’s fault, but he’d happily accept that blame.

“Which baseball team did you say came to train? Oh my God, I think I blew one of them. Well, two. At once. That was a great night. All my bases were loaded…”

Zeph laughed richly. “Still a sucker for an athlete, huh?”

“Oh, I’m not picky, but I do have a… special fondness for you guys. You keep your bodies in such good shape… and you know how to use your hips for maximum drive…” River knew he was crossing the line from the kind of dirty talk friends did to the kind you said when you wanted to get a guy in bed, but… fuck it.

Flirting hard was his special talent, and the scenery was boring.

Well, only one of those excuses was true.

“We do.” Zeph glanced sideways at River. “Have you had a lot of serious boyfriends in the last… five years now, I guess?”

River hesitated, then smirked. “Seriously good in bed, yeah. Not, like, I wanna marry him and have his babies, though. Still playing both ends of the spectrum, being the usual… freak. That’s still hard for guys to deal with. They want a pretty face to fuck and ignore when he talks about nail polish, or a big rough dude to kayak with. Not both in a dress. You?”

“Nah.”

“So, among the muscles you’ve been training…” River trailed off, his arm propped between them.

Zeph laughed and nodded. “Guilty. It sounds like we could give each other a run for our money.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” River teased.

Scarlet was creeping up Zeph’s cheeks. “I don’t remember there being a lot of running.”

“Or chasing. I was easy. Was,” River snorted, revising his word choice. “Am.”

Zeph raised a brow, and his voice was maybe half an octave lower—definitely a little more rumbly. “How easy?”

River loved hearing the effect he had on a guy when he was flirting. The sparks between them weren’t just idly glancing off one another. They were feeling each other out, fueling whatever the hell was starting up again.

It wasn’t just tension, though. It was fun, swapping stories and hearing about Zeph’s favorite moments—the highlight had been a locker room story River could only imagine. And would, for a long time to come. Picturing Zeph naked in the locker room was enough to do things to him.

“Well, if the I sucked off two baseball players at once because I couldn’t decide which one to hit on story wasn’t a clue…” River winked.

This was the most fun he’d had in ages, including being on stage.

Zeph’s laugh was a deep rumble. “You’re still into a little more than missionary with the lights off, then, huh?”

“Of course,” River gasped. “Who the fuck likes that? I mean, love-making now and then, if I were in love…” He waved a hand. That was a huge hypothetical, and one he never saw coming true. Not right now, anyway. “But that wouldn’t be under the covers. Or with the lights off. Or probably missionary.”

“So, no,” Zeph laughed.

They’d fucked probably a dozen times in the lead-up to their relationship, plus the short-lived fling itself. The details were a little fuzzy, but on the whole, River was pretty sure none of them fit that description, either.

He vividly remembered fucking in the backroom of the club, his legs around Zeph’s waist, tucked into the dark corner where they could barely even see each other, but catching just a glint of light on those dark, intense eyes locking with his as Zeph crushed him against the wall, kissed him like he was scarce oxygen for Zeph’s soul…

The heat, the weight, the size of him. Oh, yeah, River remembered it well.

Not just because they’d gone out for pizza afterward and Zeph had admitted he’d just accepted the offer to train out in the midwest.

“You should show me what you’re into these days.” The dare slipped from his lips before he could even think twice about it.

Fuck. He’d laid it all bare, and they still had an hour in the car.

But Zeph was still smirking, casting sideways glances at him while watching the road. “I was waiting for you to ask. I thought we were one-and-done back then.”

“Why?” River challenged, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head that reminded him, Because that’s been your policy since your first terrible-sex-with-ex lesson ten years ago, dumbass.

Zeph moved his hand to River’s knee, the weight of it solid and warm against him. “Good question.”

“Seems like a dumb rule,” River murmured, suddenly breathless. He squirmed in his seat, opening his legs a little wider as Zeph’s fingers slowly trailed from his knee to the top of his stocking. “I don’t like rules.”

“I like this River.” Zeph’s fingers slipped into the hem of his stocking, running along it until he reached River’s inner thigh.

“And this River would love a hand right now,” River informed him as his cock throbbed with need against his underwear. Skintight boxer briefs didn’t leave a lot of room for growth.

Zeph smirked playfully. “What do I get out of the deal? Other than a dry-cleaning bill for the upholstery?”

That made River snort with laughter. He cast a quick glance down at the bulge in Zeph’s pants, then at the road ahead. It was a good, long straight stretch without many cars around. “How steady is your driving?”

“Really?” Zeph laughed, but there was a growl in the back of his throat, too. “Straight as an arrow.”

“Still straight as can be with a cute little fag’s mouth on your dick?” River breathed, unbuckling and scooting back in his seat. He hoisted up one knee against the seat, the other elbow resting on the center console between them as he swiveled.

“That…” Zeph’s voice was strained. He shifted, pushing back in his seat and sitting as straight as he could to give River room between his crotch and the wheel. “That’s very gay.”

“Welcome to my world, baby.” River pulled Zeph’s zipper down, rubbing the bulge with his palm as he shoved his head under Zeph’s arm. It was confined, but nothing he couldn’t work with.

And Zeph was already breathing harshly, pushing his hips up into River’s touch. “Fuck. Oh, my God, I can’t believe you’re that ballsy.”

“A skirt can hide a lot.”

“Oh, it does.” While River hauled Zeph’s jeans down, Zeph shifted his grip. One hand was still on the wheel, but the other ran over his head, then down his back. He cupped River’s ass and squeezed, then walked his fingers up the bare thigh toward his ass.

“Oh, Jesus, you’ll make me come on your seat if you finger me while I do this,” River warned.

“Noted.” Zeph pulled back and trailed his fingers along the backs of River’s thighs. Zeph’s cock was free—throbbing, swollen, big. Even bigger than he remembered. River wanted it sliding down his throat, now.

River moaned. “You better tell me you get your ass tested,” he threatened. “Because I need my road trip protein.”

“I do, thank God,” Zeph breathily laughed. He ran his hand back up River’s back, pushing his skirt up before running his hand to the back of River’s head. He threaded his fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. “Negative. Two weeks ago. Nobody since.”

“Thank fuck. That’s the other thing about athletes,” River whispered, licking the swollen head. “You look after yourselves.”

A choked moan was Zeph’s only response. Muscles in his hips twitched and his hand pushed on River’s head for a moment before he relaxed his arm. He was clearly trying not to push himself up into River’s mouth. He slid his hand down to River’s back instead.

River sucked in his cheeks and twirled his tongue around the head a few times, lapping it slowly before he pulled his mouth off and kissed his way down the shaft.

He mouthed at it, open-mouthed kisses all the way down to Zeph’s balls, then back up.

“Fucking tease,” Zeph growled. “I remember that.”

River smirked. “Do you?” He ran his hand down the shaft to grip it at the base so he could press his lips hard against the tip, slowly sliding it between his pursed lips. He was thick and hot, veiny on his tongue.

Zeph’s only answer was a grunt of need. “Cocktease. Still.”

River drew his mouth up and off with a quiet pop, then licked the tip again for good measure. “You make it fun. Still.”

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly.” River started to shift as if to squirm back toward his own seat, but Zeph grabbed him by the hair. Exactly what he wanted.

“Smartass.”

River twisted to glance over his shoulder. The awkward crouch sure pushed him up into the air, doggy-style. “It looks very smart in this skirt.”

“Jesus!” Zeph growled, but he didn’t shove River’s head down. The muscles in his arms were rippling, though.

River laughed richly and relented, sucking that thick cock into his mouth again to bob his head hard and fast. Going at it sideways was a little different, but nothing he hadn’t done before.

Not with Zeph, though.

“Yes… yeah! River,” Zeph moaned, keeping his other hand white-knuckle tight on the wheel. “Fuck, yeah. Oh, Jesus. You’re still the best I ever… fuck, I’m gonna come so fast. That thing… with your tongue…”

Best of any guy? Really? River stifled his amusement and made a mental note to ask later.

Zeph’s hand sliding off his head to the wheel was endlessly satisfying, even if it sent a hard rush of adrenaline pounding through his body.

Yeah, road head was a stupid idea, but enough people did it that it had its own name. And he could see the appeal. The danger, the exhibitionist thrill, the spontaneity…

The salty taste of liquid hitting the back of his throat as Zeph shouted in pleasure, his hips pushing forward—hard—into River’s mouth. River swallowed hard, his mouth filling with Zeph’s passion between each gulp, lips pursing around twitching skin, nose buried in his shirt.

When Zeph caught his breath, vocalizing his breathing as he panted and pulled himself together, River pulled his head up slowly, starting to squirm backward.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Zeph pulled his head down onto his lap, then ran his hand down River’s chest as River awkwardly turned onto his side, then his back. The steering wheel with one strong forearm blocking his view of the car roof, and Zeph’s flushed, intense face… that was all he could see.

River’s heart raced. His boner was pushing up his skirt, he was so in need of Zeph’s attention. “Can you reach?”

“I nearly fingered that hot little ass a minute ago,” Zeph pointed out. “So… probably.” Zeph’s hand was at his waistband, playing with it.

“Can you reach and stay on the road?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Zeph’s cocky grin should have worried him, or irritated the shit out of him, but River couldn’t help a grin back at him.

“Jesus. If you kill us, I’ma haunt your ass, bitch,” River informed him. “And not like Ghost. Paranormal Witness. Paranormal Survivor.” But Zeph’s hand was pushing his skirt up, sliding into his tight boxer-briefs, and he couldn’t think straight anymore. “Hnnh!”

“That shut you up,” Zeph observed mildly, but his touch was far from mild. Slow, so fucking slow and deliberate, strong. Fingers curled around his shaft, working it gently free from his underwear and the skirt to the open air of the car.

At least in the right-hand lane, nobody would pass them on his side and straight up get that view. “A dick in my mouth does the same,” River retorted. He twisted to kiss the tip of Zeph’s soft manhood open-mouthed.

“Careful. We’ve still got a couple hours. I might just keep you here.” Zeph’s voice was a low growl.

That idea sounded a hell of a lot more tempting than he’d probably meant it to. Or maybe he had meant it to sound like River’s idea of a perfect afternoon.

He couldn’t help his shiver, thrusting up into Zeph’s tight grip as he dug his heel into the back of the seat and twisted himself to try to get his leg anywhere other than dangling out the window.

“Jesus. You nearly came on the spot. Still a kinky bastard, aren’t you?” Zeph’s grip was still tight, but he was only stroking slowly.

River groaned. “If this is payback for teasing you, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Zeph’s eyes sparkled as he risked a glance down from the road to River’s face. “Liar.”

Busted. He loved drawing it out, making men—not just any man, making Zeph—big, strong, tough fighter Zeph—making him need him so badly he was reduced to begging.

River just closed his eyes and moaned, rolling his head back in Zeph’s lap. Those strong thighs were probably the most comfortable part of him, between the foot jammed between the car door and seat, his other leg splayed out toward the dash, the gear shift pressing into his back.

But Zeph’s strokes sped up, tightened around him, squeezing him onward as electric need crackled under his skin.

He was quivering now, ecstasy building under his skin with every confident, self-assured upward jerk or downward press of Zeph’s hand.

River pressed the back of his head harder into Zeph’s leg, his gaze focusing on the strong forearm still gripping the wheel.

He’s got me.

He let go.

River couldn’t remember the last time he came so hard. The cry that ripped from the back of his throat left him hoarse, instantly struggling not to cough on the dry desert air, but his muscles were too fucking busy doing this.

His body rippled and pushed up in a wave, rising up and stiffening as his hips subconsciously pushed up into Zeph’s hand until he practically sprawled on the dash. Anyone in the oncoming lane could get an eyeful of his half-naked body and the last shudders of pleasure, and the goddamn mess he left on his clothes.

Fucking finally, he collapsed on the seat again, another wrung-out cry slipping from his lips. “Zeph. Fuck.”

“Jesus fuck, River!” River peeked through his lashes to interpret the tone. Zeph’s cheeks were blazing red. He was slack-jawed, and he kept sneaking glances down at River’s face, then over the length of his body.

River managed a cheeky smile. “You stayed on the road.”

“Oh, you’re fucking gorgeous when you come. If we weren’t in this car…” There was a promise in Zeph’s voice.

Like that, he’d caught River’s interest. “What would you have done?”

“Spoilers, sweetheart.”

River twisted for a better look up the length of Zeph’s body, from his magnificent cock against his thigh to the t-shirt that clung to his rippling pecs. “It’s only a spoiler if you plan to follow through.”

Zeph hesitated, rubbing his hand along River’s thigh and then slowly up his side until he cupped his cheek. “Are we…?”

Jesus, the gear shift in his back was going to fuck his posture if he didn’t sit up now. River twisted and did just so, pulling away to sit upright. His mind worked through Zeph’s half-formed question.

Dating again? Hell, no. Not a second time. That went against his rules. And not so fast. But it would be a sin to pass up more sex with this gorgeous creature.

“What happens in Vegas,” River succinctly told Zeph. “How about we hook up for the tour? It’s ten more days.”

“Ten more days, you mean.” Zeph’s lips twitched into a smile as he referenced their attempt at a relationship.

“Exactly. Ten days to get it out of our system. No strings attached.”

It was a casual proposition, but River’s heart thudded as he gazed sideways at Zeph, holding his breath.

Come on, baby. Say yes to me one more time.