14
BETTER THAN THE MOVIE
“YOU’RE KINDA CUTE when you’re nervous,” Dylan said, his lips quirking up as he looked over at me.
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’re fidgeting.”
“I’m not—” Glancing down at where I’d been twisting the watch on my wrist, I quickly let go, and Dylan reached over to grab my hand.
“Mhmm. Hard to believe Ace Locke gets nervous about anything, but here you are, nervous about—”
“Meeting your friends. Your family. Yeah, no pressure.”
“Exactly. No pressure. That’s why we’re here. To relax and fucking breathe, and I promise you that no one here will be on your ass.”
“Except for you, I hope.” I grinned at him, and his answering dimples made me wish we’d gone off to somewhere a little more private. The world at our fingertips, and my guy wanted to be here, in sunny, humid Florida. But Dylan hadn’t seen his friends and family in months, and as apprehensive as I was about meeting the people he cared about most, I was also a little excited—not that I’d tell him. I’d never met the family of anyone I’d dated before, because they’d all been such insignificant relationships that it hadn’t much mattered. But I knew my future lay with the man beside me, and that meant this was an important first visit.
“It’s just going to be Derek, and trust me, he’s going to be more nervous than you when you step through the door.”
I narrowed my eyes on the wicked gleam of mischief on Dylan’s face. “He doesn’t know we’re coming?”
Dylan grinned. “Now where would the fun be in that?”
“Why do I get the feeling you are up to no good?”
“Because you’re a smart man.”
“Dylan…maybe you should call him. He might not want-—” When Dylan busted up laughing, cutting my words short, I frowned.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to compose himself. “You just don’t know how wrong you are. He’s going to die when he sees you. Plus, this is my house too. I can bring whoever I want over.”
I knew that was supposed to reassure me, but I still wasn’t convinced that anyone would enjoy being surprised with a guest in their house. Especially one that could potentially come with a trail of photographers. The one saving grace so far for having left on the spur of the moment was that no one knew where we were…yet.
I took in a deep breath and looked out the window as the car drew to a stop at the curb of a modest one-story home. There was a black Jeep parked in the drive, but beyond that no activity outside. It was a welcome relief. The quiet and stillness of it all.
“You good?” Dylan asked, and I turned to face him knowing it was my turn to reassure him. I squeezed his fingers and nodded, and when he rewarded me with a blinding smile, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in, cupping his cheek in my hand, and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When I pulled away, I skimmed the pad of my thumb over his cheek and his gorgeous green eyes opened.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said, and Dylan gently bit his lower lip in a way that made me want to kiss him forever.
God, how was it that I was sitting here with him? How was it possible that I was this damn lucky?
“Thank you for being here,” he said when he pulled away and then reached for the door handle just as the driver opened it wide. “Ready?”
I let out a feigned groan, and then followed him to the trunk to grab our suitcases. Directly across the street from their house was a long stretch of white, sandy beach, interspersed with fewer people than I’d expected during this time of year. The clear aquamarine water beckoned, and I knew it would be a warmer welcome than the frigid Pacific waves I was used to. As I took a deep lungful of the salty air, my body began to relax for the first time in weeks. Dylan was right. This was exactly what I needed—what we needed.
As we headed up the sidewalk, Dylan reached for the keys he’d tucked away in his pocket, and it struck me as strange that this was his home. Not the cramped studio in L.A., but this house I’d never seen before, almost three thousand miles away from where I lived, and not only that, but he shared this place with another man. I didn’t know anything firsthand about his life here, and that realization had the nerves dissolving and a burning curiosity roaring to life instead.
Dylan unlocked the front door and pushed it open, giving it a few loud raps before walking on through.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called out, rolling his suitcase into a small, but nicely furnished living room and dropping the keys on a side table.
“What the shit,” I heard a guy—presumably Derek—say from somewhere in the back of the house, and then his heavy footsteps were heading toward us. I’d never actually seen a picture of Dylan’s friend and roommate before, but when a tattooed man in a black tank, camo shorts, and black combat boots stepped into view, toweling off a head full of wet brown hair, I knew who he was immediately. Dylan’s description of the guy had nailed him to a T—including the brash greeting he gave as he caught sight of his friend.
“Dude, how the hell are you just gonna slide into town the day after you told me you weren’t coming anytime soon? I could’ve picked your ass up from the airport.” Dylan met Derek halfway across the room, and clapped hands with the guy before giving him a hug.
“No need. I actually brought—”
“Holy fucking shit.” Derek’s eyes landed on me from over Dylan’s shoulder, and Dylan turned around and gestured in my direction.
“Ace,” he finished.
* * *
AS I STOOD there beside Derek staring at the man lingering in our foyer, I had to agree with Derek’s assessment, because if someone had told me before I left for L.A. that the next time I came home Ace Locke would be with me, I would’ve called them a big fucking liar.
But…there he was. A suitcase by his side, his hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts, and a half-smile on his face. And though he looked a little anxious, to me he’d never looked handsomer.
“Derek—” I started, but Derek waved me off and took a step forward.
“You’re…” he said, and then stopped and looked at me over his shoulder, and I couldn’t help the smirk on my face as he then looked back to Ace, whose lips tugged into a smug line of their own. Oh yeah, this is sweet. It wasn’t often Derek Pearson was rendered mute, but hell if this wasn’t a satisfying moment. It was an awesome sight to see two of the cockiest men I knew tiptoeing around the other.
“You’re Ace Locke,” Derek informed Ace, just in case he’d forgotten. Then he whipped his head back to look at me, and his eyes were massive. “You brought Ace fucking Locke to our house without telling me?”
I couldn’t help the yes I did smile that was now spread across my entire face. Then I caught Ace move, and my eyes flicked up to see him step forward to stop just in front of Derek, who’d now turned back to face him. Ace held his hand out, and when Derek raised his to take it like a robot, Ace flashed his thirty-million-dollar smile and shook it.
“You would be right. I am Ace Locke. And you must be Derek, the guy I have to thank for not being able to get it up.”
Oh no he didn’t.
Derek’s eyes bugged out of his head as he continued to shake Ace’s hand, and his mouth opened and shut several times, like he was trying to work out a response and physically couldn’t.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me then. “Okay, I need to record this moment, because a speechless Derek is not one we’ll ever see again.”
“What… I can’t believe… Shit,” Derek said, and Ace pulled him forward to clap him on the back.
“Sorry, man, I couldn’t resist,” Ace said with a chuckle. “But seriously, I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”
“Unless it was about my ten-inch dick, don’t believe a word that asshole says.” When we laughed harder, Derek turned back to me and pointed. “I can’t believe you did that, man. You better keep one eye open when you sleep.”
“You forget I’ll have Ace Locke sleeping with me. I’m pretty sure he could take you.”
Derek scoffed, but when he eyed the size of Ace’s biceps in person, he twisted his lips. “The fuck do you bench-press? A cow?”
“About three eighty-five on a good day.”
Derek’s eyes popped wide, and he nodded slowly. “Right…uh…well, come on in.” He motioned toward the leather couch and chairs, and then plopped himself in one as Ace took a spot on the couch. I grabbed a couple of bottled waters out of the fridge and then took the empty place next to Ace. When I settled in beside him and rested a hand on his thigh, I caught a brief tensing in Ace’s body, and then, as if he realized this was a safe place, he relaxed into himself.
“So is it okay for me to ask how in the world you ended up with Prescott here? Tell me to butt out if I’m being too nosy—”
“Butt out,” I joked, and Derek flipped me off, making Ace chuckle.
“Nah, you’re fine,” Ace said, and then shifted on the couch to lay his arm across the back of it. Look at him getting all cozy, I thought, as I snuggled into his side, knowing Derek wouldn’t bat an eye at the move. “I actually nearly hit him with my car.”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“It’s true,” I said, then uncapped my water and took a swig. “Then he proceeded to be a jerk about it.”
“I guess that’s about right. I was ready to give the new guy a piece of my mind once I found out we were working together but then I realized…” When Ace trailed off, Derek looked to me then back to Ace.
“You realized…?”
“He realized I was the guy on the billboard he’d been drooling all over for weeks,” I said.
As Derek let out a rumbling laugh, I angled my head back so my eyes found Ace’s, and I waggled my eyebrows.
“You’re a troublemaker,” he said with a grin. “How did I not know this?”
“Because you were too busy trying to get in my pants.”
Ace’s cheeks flushed bright red, and when his eyes darted over to Derek, I leaned up and kissed him just by his ear. “Relax, he’s cool.”
“Plus,” Derek said, “you forget I know this guy. He’s been watching you on his private DVD collection for years.”
“Derek, shut the fuck up,” I said.
“What? It’s true.”
“You were right there watching them with me,” I pointed out.
Derek’s eyes shifted between the two of us and then landed on Ace’s. “For very different reasons, I would like to note.”
“Yeah, whatever, Pearson. You were just as—”
“Right, Ace,” Derek interrupted, glaring at me like he was going to throw his water in my face. “Want a tour? I believe Dylan has a nice little setup you would be very interested in just down the hall.”
“He already knows I’m a fan—”
“An obsessive fan?”
“Not the word I’d use.”
“Dude, if you were in high school, you’d have posters of his ass all over your room, don’t lie.”
“Jesus,” I said, and chanced a look at Ace’s face to see how freaked out this conversation had him. But he was grinning, clearly enjoying hearing Derek’s take on my…err, fandom.
“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Ace said, his eyes locking on mine, “I’d still put up a poster of this guy. That’s a great idea, actually… Let me see if I can call in a favor to Calvin Klein for a copy of that hot shot.”
I groaned and shook my head. “Absofuckinglutely not. No way.”
“Hey, speaking of, pretty boy,” Derek said, “don’t you have some Gucci shit to shoot or something? I thought we wouldn’t see you for a few more months.”
“You complaining about me being here?” I teased.
“Hell no. You know better. But you didn’t give me time to plan that killer party.”
Ace’s forehead lifted. “Killer party?”
“Derek wanted to get the crew together to give you a welcome party when I brought you down here. But that’s too mu—”
“Awesome,” Ace said.
“Awesome?” I asked. “I thought you wanted some downtime and peace and quiet.”
“I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends while we’re here.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Derek slapped a hand on his knee and got to his feet. “Looks like I’d better get started, then. How long you in town for?”
“I’ve got to be back for a shoot in a couple weeks.”
“Perfect.” Derek grabbed his wallet and keys from the coffee table, shoved them in his pocket, and then held out a hand to Ace. “I’ve gotta get to work and make some phone calls for the party, but it was great to meet you, man.”
“Yeah, likewise,” Ace said, and then Derek pointed at me.
“Don’t think I’m gonna forget. One eye open, fucker.”
Laughing, I nodded, and watched Derek head out. As the sound of his boots on the pavement faded, I shifted and then climbed onto the couch to straddle Ace’s lap. I looped my arms around his neck, and when his hands moved down to my hips and pulled me in closer, he grinned, and I smacked a quick kiss to his lips and said, “So, wanna see my bedroom?”
* * *
THERE WERE SO many things I liked about the man clambering off my lap, but when he held out a hand to me with a bright smile, this side of him was fast becoming my favorite. It was clear that here, Dylan was completely at home, and that ease and simple acceptance was something I’d longed for my entire life. It was funny that in a little more than twenty minutes I felt more myself than I ever had before, and it was all to do with the man whose fingers were now wrapping around mine as I pushed off the couch and got to my feet.
“Do I look stupid to you?” I asked as I took a step closer to Dylan only to have him back away from me and tug on my hand.
“No. You look…really, really sexy sitting in my living room. But,” he said, raising a hand, “I will not be distracted by all that Locke charm.”
“Oh you won’t, huh?”
Dylan continued backward pulling me along with him. His eyes were sparkling as he ran them over me. “Nope. You see, there’s something I want more than anything else in the world right now.”
Playing along, I followed him down the hall and past two doors. Then he stopped at the final one on the left, which was shut, and I couldn’t help myself from putting my hands on either side of his head and ghosting my lips over the top of his. “And what’s that?” I whispered.
Dylan sucked in a shaky breath, and as his eyelids lowered to half-mast, he wasn’t the only one left breathless. Christ. “Pretty boy” was what Derek had called him, and I remembered Russ using the term once also, and as we stood there in his hall, which had slivers of sunlight slipping through the windows, I was taken away by just how striking Dylan was.
Before I could comment, or crush his mouth under mine, though, the tease slipped away and into the room behind him. As I took a step inside, he continued to back up and nod. “Yes…see. This right here,” he said, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “This is what I wanted. Ace Locke standing in my bedroom.”
I glanced at my surroundings, a neatly made queen-size pushed up against the far wall, a window cracked enough to let in the breezy beach air, and on the far side opposite the bed was a dresser with a large TV. But that wasn’t what caught and held my attention. No, that honor went to the tall bookcase beside it, which housed an extensive DVD collection.
Okay, Daydream, let’s see just how big a fan you are.
The first thing I noticed when I walked closer to the bookcase was that they were all in alphabetical order, same as my collection back home. I wanted to make a joke about us being anal, but then I figured that punch line was a little too easy, so I scanned through the titles instead, and the farther I went, the bigger my eyes got. Fuck me, he wasn’t kidding.
When I looked up at Dylan, he just shrugged as if to say told you, and his expression was so unapologetic it sent a sharp spike of lust straight to my dick. Glancing back at the collection, I swept over the titles until I found the one I was looking for, and then I pulled out the DVD case and held it up.
“Mmm, Original Bourbon, one of my favorites.” Dylan nodded in approval as I sauntered toward him.
“I bet I can guess your favorite scene,” I told him.
“Oh, you think so, huh?”
I pushed Dylan back onto the bed, and as he laughed in surprise, I crawled up between his thighs and hovered over him, placing my hands on either side of his head.
“This position does seem vaguely familiar,” he said, smiling broadly as my hips grazed against his. “There was just one major difference—it wasn’t you on top.”
“Ah, that’s right.” Rolling us over so Dylan was now on top, I said, “What else?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t facing you.”
“No?”
Dylan shook his head and stood up, then he turned around and straddled my hips again. Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Now all we’re missing is that bottle of High Horse bourbon.”
“Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out.”
“Liar.”
“You’re right,” I said, running my hands up his legs. “I must be a sick fuck that this is hot right now. But the thought of you lying in bed, memorizing every detail…damn.”
“It’s no different than you fucking yourself to the thought of my pictures, right?” He pulled the zipper of my jeans down, and when his palm ran over the erection straining against my briefs, I arched my hips up into his touch.
“Right?” he asked again, and aimed a look over his shoulder, waiting for my response.
“God yes.”
When he turned his attention back to what he was doing, I couldn’t have kept my hands to myself if I tried. I ran them over his hips and then up his sides as he slipped his fingers beneath the elastic of my briefs, and when they grazed over the swollen head of my cock, I groaned.
“Oh fuck. Do that again,” I said, and Dylan was quick to comply, but this time he trailed his wet fingers down the underside of my shaft, shoving my briefs aside. As my dick sprang free, he wrapped his hand around my length and gave a firm tug. I dug my fingers into his thighs as Dylan continued to tease and torment the ache throbbing between my legs, and I widened them to give him better access. My breathing was labored as he slid his fist up and down my length from root to tip, and it was all I could do not to flip him back over, rip his pants off, and shove inside of him.
“Dylan,” I said, when he slipped a hand down between my legs to cup my balls.
“Ace…” the flirt astride me moaned, and then canted his hips toward what his hands were doing, giving me a perfect view of his upturned ass as he began to rock over the top of me.
I gripped him around the waist and shut my eyes as I halted his wayward hips and said in a gruff voice, “Get undressed.”
Dylan glanced back at me, and the arousal was stamped all over his features. Flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, and wet, plump lips that had been sucked between his teeth as he’d teased me, and the look of him just made me even more turned on. He climbed off me and stood by the bed, and as I went to sit up and do the same, he shook his head and placed a palm on my chest, shoving me to my back.
“You stay like that, hotshot,” he said, and whipped his shirt over his head and then went for the button of his shorts. “Flat on your back, pants undone, cock waiting for me to suck…in my bed.”
“I do like this bed. Nice and firm…” My words trailed off when Dylan’s clothes came off and something else nice and firm caught my attention. As he put one knee on the bed, I reached down to grip the base of my cock and said, “Stop.”
“Stop?”
“I know you’re all about accuracy in these films, but I think this particular scene needs…a different position.”
One of Dylan’s eyebrows shot up. “And what position is that?”
“I want you to sit on my fucking face.”
A sensual grin crossed those pouty lips, and he took his knee off the mattress. Walking up to the head of the bed, he leaned down and gave me an earth-shattering kiss that told me exactly what he thought of my idea. Then he climbed up and over me, positioning himself so that not only did his mouth have easy access to my cock, but I had a perfect view of everything I wanted to lick and suck.
As Dylan’s hot mouth came down over my dick, I craned my head up and swiped my tongue over his sac. He reared back on me and I took hold of his hips, keeping him in place as I sucked the hot skin between my lips and Dylan continued to suck on my cock like it was a Popsicle.
“Oh, Dylan,” I growled, and tore my lips from him. My head flopped back on the bed when his hands smoothed down my thighs, and then he lowered his body slightly to rub his erection against my shirt. He moaned around my thick length at the friction and then did it again, getting off on the feel of the material brushing against his sensitive flesh before he shoved back, and I took in the firm ass cheeks hovering above my face. I drew in a ragged breath, trying to get myself under control, and then brought my hands up to plump and spread him apart so I could look at everything he was offering. Hell, this wasn’t gonna last long, and I could only hope the warm moisture now seeping through my shirt was an indication that he was as close to completion as I was.
With a soothing stroke of my hand over his bare ass, I raised my fingers to my lips and sucked them inside, getting them nice and wet before I drew a slippery path down his crack. When Dylan tensed, and the fingers on my thighs tightened, I bucked up, shoving between his lips at the same time I pushed the tip of my finger against his pucker.
Dylan raised his head then and demanded, “More.” But I was right there sliding my finger deep inside him as he took me between his lips once again. It didn’t take long after that. The heat of his mouth surrounding me, the visual of my finger, first one, and then two, disappearing into his tight hole, and the deliciously depraved sounds of him sucking and whimpering around my dick had my orgasm shooting out of me and into the warmth of Dylan’s mouth. As he swallowed greedily, my fingers bumped against his prostate and his hips jerked once, twice, and then he was coming all over my shirt in a hot, sticky rush. Our breaths were labored as Dylan turned himself around and lay on top of me, licking his lips.
“Fucking delicious,” he said. “Better than the movie.”
I chuckled as he dipped his head down for a soft kiss that I felt all the way to my toes, and I loved that I could taste myself on his tongue. Loved that he wanted any and every part of me he could have inside him. I reached up to push a strand of hair off his forehead, and he leaned into my touch.
“Dylan,” I said softly, running my fingers through his hair.
“Hmm?”
“There’s something important I think we need to discuss.”
Dylan’s eyes went alert as they shot to mine, and I wondered what he thought it was I was going to say.
I caught his lower lip between my teeth and sucked it into my mouth, and then I gave him a playful grin and said, “I think you owe me a new shirt.”