CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BUT THEN I MET HIM
PAST
STEPHAN
I heard every story there was to hear about Javier before I ever laid eyes on him. He was slutty. He was a snob. He loved drama, and it followed him everywhere. He couldn't keep a secret.
There was more dirt flying around about him than I could keep up with, and though I tended to shy away from gossip, I had every reason to believe most of it, based on the fact that there was just so much of it.
But then I met him. No one had told me he was drop dead gorgeous. Just beautiful in a way that spoke to me. Every part of him was defined and perfect, from his lips to his hands. Elegant and devastating.
No one told me that he had the thickest eyelashes on the planet, or that his calm dark eyes sparkled when he smiled.
I was wildly attracted to him the instant I set eyes on him, but even so, I didn't like him. He had a shitty reputation, and he was not my type. Not at all.
My unruly body and my stupid heart couldn't seem to keep that straight.
We met at the crew headquarters. He was our fifth flight attendant, not a part of the regular crew, which meant he was on-call and had likely had to rush to work with only an hour's notice. He didn't look it. He looked very well put together, his tie straight, his hair perfect. He looked calm and relaxed, and good enough to eat.
Everyone was there, including the pilots, so we did the crew briefing as we waited for the bus that would take us to the plane.
It was a short briefing, because almost all of us had been working together for a full month, and Bianca and I always worked together in first class. I sent her a brief smile, and that was all, before addressing Javier, whose eyes I'd felt on me since the moment we'd been introduced.
He was brazen, that one.
"Jessa has the galley," I told him, "and Julie is our usual third this month, so that makes you fifth. You'll be doing the count and helping the girls between their carts."
He just nodded, giving me his full attention in a way that unnerved me. He didn't know I was gay. Very few of the people we worked with did. I never dated anyone from work, and only our closest friends had any inkling of the truth. Most thought Bianca was my girlfriend, and that suited us both fine. But the way he looked at me felt like a come-on, and I felt myself both infuriated and fascinated by that. There was no way he could know. I didn't believe in that gaydar crap.
I held Bianca's hand as we sat together on the crew bus. This was in no way unusual for us. We were close to the point of inseparable and had never felt the need to hide it, not from anyone. Still, somehow, with Javier's stare boring into me across the aisle, I felt defensive about the handholding, and I wasn't sure if that was because I wanted to explain it to him, or use it to warn him off. It rankled that I even had to think about it. I didn't owe explanations about any part of my life to anyone, I told myself firmly, let alone some little troublemaker I'd just met.
The plane was boarding through the second door at this jet bridge, so the passengers were entering the plane between the front of coach and the back of first class. This had Javier at the door with me, side by side, as we waited for the passengers to board.
"You and Bianca make a beautiful couple," Javier said quietly beside me.
This had me raising my brows and looking directly at him. He was smiling, a brow arched playfully.
Was he messing with me? Did he really think she and I were a couple, or was he mocking me?
I honestly couldn't tell.
"Thank you," I replied, my tone very neutral.
"Like Barbie and Ken."
That almost had me laughing. "Don't tell her that. She hates it when people call her Barbie. We've gotten that comparison a lot."
"I don't know why she'd hate that. Most girls would kill to look like a Barbie doll."
"Well, not Bianca. My advice would be to stay on her good side, and rule one to doing that is not to call her Barbie."
"Got it. Have any rules for staying on your good side?"
"To always be on Bianca's good side."
"So it's like that . . . interesting."
I studied him, almost positive that he was mocking me. "We're a package deal."
"Noted. I always wanted a best friend like that. You two are lucky."
"We're more than just best friends," I told him firmly, wanting to set up clear boundaries.
He smirked at me, and I knew, just knew, that he had guessed my secret. "Sure. Okay. More. I get the hint. You two have any plans for the layover?"
I shrugged. We were headed to Miami with a twenty-four hour layover. "Probably just hanging out at the beach or the pool. Nothing big."
"Would you mind if I tag along, or do you two need to be alone?"
I glared at him, wondering why he felt the need to be so sarcastic. "Tag away. This is a friendly crew. They'll probably all be out there."
"Thanks. I hate it when I get the crews that stay in their rooms all day."
"No problem. It's Miami, and the weather is supposed to be beautiful. It would be a pity to stay inside."
"You going to hit the gym?"
I chewed on my lip, considering my answer.
I wanted to avoid working out with him, if that was what he was getting at. I couldn't explain it, but I felt like I needed to avoid him altogether. "I'm not sure."
The first wave of passengers began to board, which was a relief, because even chatting with him unnerved me.
Boarding, takeoff, and our redeye service went smoothly and quickly. I didn't even see Javier again until the flight was half done.
I was drinking coffee in the front galley alone. Bianca was in the back, chatting with Jessa, so I was manning the front of the plane, wondering if I should call them up to the front.
I didn't like to be alone. Not ever.
I jumped a little as a smiling Javier burst through the curtain, nearly making me spill my coffee.
"Hey," he said, moving to stand way too close to me. "I thought you might be lonely up here, with all the girls chatting in back and all of the passengers sleeping."
I made a noncommittal noise, staring at him. One black curl had fallen onto his forehead, bringing out his thick lashes and his dark eyes. He really was just a striking man.
"So about the workout tomorrow. I like to hit the gym. I'm not ripped like you, but I try to keep fit. I hate going alone though."
"I'm not sure," I said, trying hard to take exception to the way he was staring at me. He was just so brazen.
I should call him out on that, I thought, but I didn't.
I watched his hand move to my arm, gripping as though to test my muscle. "What are you doing?" I asked him, my voice hard with tension.
"You don't get arms like this by skipping the gym. I think you're going to go, but you just don't want to go with me. What have you heard about me?" As he spoke, his hand moved to my abs, skimming over the taut ridges under my shirt.
I didn't react right away, genuinely shocked at his nerve.
Finally, my free hand shot to his, gripping it hard enough to make his eyes water with pain.
"What have you heard about me that makes you think I want you touching me?" Each word came through my clenched teeth.
"Nothing," he said, pulling on his hand.
I let it go, and he shook it, as though to shake away the pain. "I've only heard how hot you are and that you're with that girl."
"Bianca."
"Yeah. Her."
"Why did you touch my stomach?"
"I was just making conversation. I . . . wanted to feel your six pack, since I could tell that you had one. You can't tell me you aren't working out tomorrow. I won't believe you. I was just trying to prove my point."
"You shouldn't grab people like that without their permission. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Javier didn't answer, his gaze arrested, pointed at my crotch. I'd grown hard at his first touch, and I couldn't hide it, even in my work slacks.
He swallowed hard, staring. And staring.
Great, I thought, this one is sure to tell the world my secret. And on the tail of that thought: Well, now that he knows, the harm is already done . . .
That was a dangerous line of thought.
As though he hadn't heard my last sentence, as though my anger scared him not at all, he reached for me, stroking me through my pants.
My free hand gripped the counter behind me for support.
"Stop that," I told him gruffly, but there was no heat in it.
All of my heat had pooled below my waist.
"Let me take care of this. You don't have to do anything for me. I just want to suck you off." His lovely black eyes looked up at me so sweetly that I felt captured by them.
I shook my head, but could not find the will to make it convincing.
He moved until his chest touched mine, still working me with his hand. I hadn't had anyone touch me like this in so long. It was hard not to let it cloud my senses.
He kissed me, his mouth coaxing mine open.
I set my coffee down very carefully, before grabbing his hair, pulling his face away from mine.
"What are you doing?"
"Kissing you. I've wanted to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Please, let me kiss you."
"I don't do this. I don't do this casual thing. I'm not like you."
"What am I like?"
"Easy. Promiscuous. I don't do sex unless I have feelings for a person."
He smiled huge. "You are a different one, aren't you? So have feelings for me, and kiss me."
"Don't make fun of me. I don't find this funny at all."
"I wasn't. I meant it. I'm putting myself out here for your enjoyment. What do I need to do to be with you? Because that's what I want."
I didn't believe him, but I kissed him for that, for the way his words made my heart race and my breath catch. We didn't pull back for a very long time, and when we did, I felt out of control.
"Come to the bathroom with me. Fuck my mouth, Stephan. I want you to do whatever you want to me with this big cock of yours. Anything."
"You never get to fuck me, you understand?" I growled at him, gripping his hair to the point of pain. "I don't do that. Not ever. I won't even consider it."
"That's fine. That's fine."
He sounded like he meant it, and I let him tug me into the bathroom.
I had a brief moment of lucid thought, as he sat on the closed toilet in the tiny confined space, frantically undoing my pants, that in all my life I'd never done a thing so sordid, even when I'd traded my body for shelter. But I quickly lost all lucidity as I sprang into his eager hands, and he went to work on me with his mouth.
I hadn't had a lot of partners, and I'd never had a blow job like the one Javier performed on me.
He deep-throated me, sucking until my vision blurred.
I didn't last thirty seconds.
I bit my lip not to shout as I came, my tip deep in his throat. I felt his muscles work as he swallowed every drop.
Perhaps there is some advantage to hooking up with a slut, I thought.
He was talented.
He stood up to kiss me when he'd sucked out every drop, still stroking me with his hand.
I flushed hotly when he pulled back. "I usually last longer than that."
He just smiled, looking happy to the point of joyful. "It was a BJ. You aren't supposed to last long, if I'm doing it right."
I raised my hand to stroke his lower lip. "You're very good at that. How often do you find yourself sucking off strangers in airplane bathrooms?"
All of the joy died from his eyes, and I was instantly sorry. Most slutty gay men weren't sensitive about being slutty, but I'd clearly put my foot in my mouth. "That came out wrong."
"I don't know what you've heard about me, but I haven't slept around in a very long time. I just . . . liked you."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insulting."
"Will you workout with me in the morning?"
"Okay," I agreed, since he clearly wasn't going to let it go.
"I want you to fuck me," he said, pulling back to stare at my cock, which was starting to swell again in his stroking hand.
I swallowed hard. "God, you're forward."
"Not always. Not usually. Touch me. Please."
I reached down, gripping him, stroking him through his pants. It was the first contact I'd had with that part of him. I loved the feel of him in my hands, hard and straining. He was more elegantly made than I was, though still a good size.
"Come to my room and fuck me tonight. I don't even care if you get me off. I just want you to take me."
"This is moving too fast," I told him. "We haven't even been on a date yet."
He blinked up at me, slow, hypnotizing blinks. "You want to date me?"
I didn't think I actually did. I still didn't know anything about him. We hadn't even had any real conversation yet. But his tone had been so hopeful, so unabashedly delighted, and flattered, that I found myself saying, "Isn't that the way this usually works?"
He hugged me. "Not for me. Not with guys like you."
Maybe I did want to, I found myself thinking.
He was much sweeter than he let on. Sweet could soften my heart like nothing else.
"How about tomorrow night?" I said slowly, working it out in my head. "I'll take you to dinner, maybe a movie?"
He squeezed me tighter. "I'd love that. Just the two of us?"
I laughed. "It is a date. Do you usually go on dates with more than two people?"
He pulled back to look at me, kissing my chin, and then my mouth, just pecks. "Will Bianca be okay with it?"
"She never minds staying in to read, and I'll bring her some takeout."
"So she is just a friend . . . right?"
"More than that. She's my family. My whole world."
"But not your lover?"
"No, not that."
"Good," he said, then pushed up to kiss me.
I gripped his hair and kissed him back. I was fully hard again when I tore my mouth away. I was still hanging out of my pants, and I glanced down as I started to grind against his own constrained bulge.
With a moan, he pulled my mouth back to his. He was the sweetest kisser, his lips soft but hesitant, not for lack of finesse, but almost a timid restraint, as though to communicate with the give of his mouth how he wanted me to proceed. How he wanted me to take over. That was more than fine with me.