I’m beat when we get back to the room after our shift signing shit at the booth. We ended up doing almost four hours instead of two because the line never seemed to end, and we didn’t want to disappoint so many fans. When my hand started to cramp, I put an end to it, telling Bear if he got addresses, I’d sign some shit and ship it out over the next few weeks to appease those who were left in line. Then, Brewer and I stopped at the bar in the lobby and bought a bottle of tequila before we went back upstairs, both ready to unwind.

I still can’t get over that idiot earlier who thought slapping my ass and telling me he wanted to top me would get me into bed. Granted, a few weeks ago I probably would’ve taken him up on it just to get it over with. But since Brewer and I have become better friends, I’ve started thinking maybe I should ask him to top me before the shoot. I just need to find a way to ask and keep my dignity intact.

I kick off my shoes and collapse on the bed when we get into the room. I expect Brewer to join me, and when he doesn’t, I crack open an eye to see him still standing at the foot of the bed.

“We need to talk.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” I ask sarcastically.

“No,” Brewer answers, fixing me with a look. “We need to talk about the fact that I can’t let you bottom for the first time on film.”

“How did you know?”

“Wild guess?”

“Fine, you’re right. I haven’t bottomed before, and frankly I’m not thrilled about doing it on camera either. I tried to find someone to fuck me, but it didn’t go so well.”

Brewer raises his eyebrows and smirks at me. “You haven’t exhausted all your options, grizzly bear.”

“You want to fuck me?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He winks at me.

“Can we be serious about this for a second?”

“Yes, fine. I can’t in good conscience let your first time be in a scene. So, I’m offering my services before the shoot in a few days.”

I let out a long breath, rub my hands over my face. Either way, my ass belongs to Brewer. But will it make things too weird and complicated if I let him have it in private like this? Will the intimacy of this change things between us?

“Stop thinking so hard; you’re going to sprain something,” Brewer teases, and I give him the finger. “Seriously, I can’t do it on camera, and I promise I’ll make it good for you. I...I don’t want you having some jackass going at you without worrying about your enjoyment.”

I raise an eyebrow at Brewer’s unexpected concern for me. Sure, we’ve been getting closer, but this is beyond the call of whatever tentative friendship we’ve created. But he’s right, who else am I going to get to do it? Time has run out. And it’s not like I wasn’t just thinking a few minutes ago that Brewer would be the best option. He’s right; I know he’ll make it good for me.

After a few seconds of contemplation, I nod, and a smile breaks out over Brewer’s face.

“You want a drink?” I ask, holding up the tequila bottle.

“Hell yeah.” He holds up the packets of salt and the lime he managed to sweet talk the bartender into giving us.

He lays out a napkin and struggles to cut up the lime with a plastic knife while I look on with a smirk. He glances over and raises an eyebrow at me.

“Something funny?” he asks. I shake my head and take a swig from the bottle.

“Thank you,” I say after a moment.

“It’s not like this is going to be a hardship.”

“Maybe not for you,” I mutter, and Brewer laughs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

With the lime finally cut, Brewer brings them, along with the salt packets, over to the bed where he sits down next to me.

Brewer bites down on the lime and shudders before tossing the rind on the nightstand.

“So, you only ever date bottom boys or what?” he asks conversationally.

I shrug and take my own shot of tequila, ignoring the burn as it slides down my throat. Then I grab a lime slice off the little napkin and shove it into my mouth to chase away some of the bitter taste of cheap tequila.

“Not exclusively,” I finally answer when I realize Brewer is going to wait me out.

“So, they’ve all been too afraid to make you their bitch for the night?” Brewer taunts.

I shoot him look filled with as much venom as I can manage. He’s pushing my buttons on purpose, I know he is. He doesn’t see bottoming as a submission. I’ve seen his face when he gets fucked; he feels powerful, not dominated.

“Giving you my ass doesn’t make me your bitch. Don’t get it confused, fuckboy.”

“No? I don’t suppose you’re a lay down and take it type, are you? The on-camera stuff isn’t an act—you like to fuck hard. And I bet you’ll like to get fucked hard, too. Don’t worry, grizzly bear, I’m going to own that ass and have you begging for my cock again.”

A shiver runs down my spine and my cock fills out the front of my jeans, already straining at his filthy words.

Brewer grabs a little plastic cup from the nightstand and pours about a shot of tequila and hands it to me. Then, he tears open a salt packet and grabs a lime wedge. With the lime and salt in one hand, Brewer climbs onto my lap and presses his chest to mine. He tilts his head to the left, fully exposing the right side of his neck to me.

“Lick,” he instructs, and I obey without a thought, dragging my tongue over his pulse point, savoring the taste of his sweat and pheromones.

He takes the salt packet and sprinkles some onto the wet spot left by my mouth. Then, he puts the lime slice into his mouth and winks at me. It takes my brain a second to process what he wants, but as soon as I do my heart pounds with the lust-filled blood thundering through my veins.

I lift the plastic cup to my lips and down the liquid with a tilt of my head. Then, I grab Brewer by the hair and yank him to me. I drag my nose against the rough stubble on his jaw, and I inhale his essence. My teeth nip at the spot just behind his ear, and finally, I run my tongue through the salt.

Brewer turns his head, then slams his mouth against mine. The lime slides into my mouth as a passenger on Brewer’s seeking tongue. I drop the plastic cup onto the floor, not really giving half a fuck what happens to it, and I fist the sides of Brewer’s shirt, tugging it up. When we have to part so I can get it over his head, I spit the lime wedge out somewhere in the vicinity of the cup, and then I attack his lips again.

We nip and lick at each other’s lips as whimpers, growls, and curses fill the air. It’s like he’s sucking all the air right out of my lungs because I swear I can’t get a proper breath. But fuck if I even care. All I want is to breathe in Brewer; I want to be surrounded by him and full of him. I want things I refuse to acknowledge right now, things I’m planning to blame on being drunk on lust and tequila.

We fumble together to get our pants off and kick them off the bed. I was going commando so my full, dripping cock is pressed against the rough fabric of Brewer’s briefs. His own cock is barely contained, the head nearly peeking out.

Brewer runs a hand up the back of my thigh and on to my ass cheek. He looks up at me with a sweet, shy expression, and for a second, I’m completely out of my depth. I’m so used to hating Brewer; I have since the moment we met, and he was flirting with some pretty boy. He hardly gave me a flicker of interest before dismissing me. He apologized later, telling me he had been smitten with an asshole, but he was over it. It was too late; I already knew who Brewer was then. He was a fuckboy who was more concerned with a hot piece of ass than anything else. He was shallow and prickish. He was too good for me, and he knew it.

A sharp slap on my ass startles me from my thoughts.

“You’re getting way too broody. It’s time to let me show you the hidden pleasures of ass play.”

I roll off of him to let him up. I hesitate, not sure how we’re going to do this.

“Hands and knees, big boy,” Brewer commands.

I assume the position, feeling all kinds of wrong on this side of things.

“God, you have a nice ass. I didn’t think hairy guys did it for me, but on you, teddy bear, all this fur is hot as fuck. You’re just so manly and fucking hot,” he praises as he kneads the globes of my ass.

“Can we skip the soliloquy on your new furry fetish and get this show on the road?”

“No way, teddy bear. This isn’t a scene, and there’s no way in hell I’m skipping the foreplay.” Brewer’s voice is back to husky, sexy, and I try to hide my shiver.

I spread my legs a little as Brewer crawls closer, and my cock flexes, desperate for any friction.

I tense when his hands grip my ass cheeks and spread them apart. I resist the urge to roll over and hide from his view. It’s awkward as hell having someone staring at your asshole, and yes, I realize the irony of that statement as a porn star.

I let out a surprised yelp as Brewer’s tongue touches my hole. His laugh vibrates against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and I clench my fists. The next lap of Brewer’s tongue is from my balls to the top of my crack, just glancing past my hole, and I squirm. Each lick is different than the last, stroke length, pressure, path—Brewer keeps me on my toes, and before long, I forget to feel self-conscious. He flutters his tongue along my entrance and heat settles in the pit of my stomach. I press back, needing more. When his tongue breaches my hole, I curse, and my cock throbs, swaying between my thighs, still craving touch, friction, anything to help me get off.

Brewer tongues my ass enthusiastically, licking and sucking into my hole with sloppy sounds and greedy moans until I’m certain I could actually come from this alone, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

And then his mouth is gone, and I let out a grunt of disapproval.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Maybe we’ll make a big ol’ bottom boy out of you yet.”

I grind my teeth together and grumble under my breath, earning another chuckle from Brewer. I’ll give him this, his teasing and joking are helping to settle my nerves better than any foreplay could.

“Little cold,” Brewer warns, slipping his slick fingers into my cleft. I tense, half expecting him to just go right for it and shove his fingers in. “Relax, princess, I’ll be gentle with your sensitive posterior.”

“Fuck you,” I growl through clenched teeth.

“Nope, it’s your turn tonight, grizzly bear. Now take a deep breath and bear down when I push inside, got it?”

I huff out a breath and nod. How many times have I used some variation of those words myself? Enough to know how to instruct a nervous bottom. I just never thought I’d be on this side of the equation.

He doesn’t go for it right away, though. Brewer slides his fingers around my rim until it really does start to feel good. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and let myself relax.

Once I do, I feel the tip of one finger push inside me. There’s a slight burn even with such a minor invasion; I can’t imagine how a cock is going to feel like anything but fire up my ass. He works the finger in and out little by little until it does start to feel interesting. Then he grazes something inside me that makes me grunt and push back against him, needing more like I need oxygen.

“Wow, you know, I’ve harnessed the power of the prostate on many men, but I never knew how—”

He does it again, and I break my sentence off on a long, low moan.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”

A second finger joins the first, and the burning starts again. This time it’s quicker to become pleasant. When he adds a third, I know to expect the burn, and I don’t tense, and holy hell, am I surprised at how good that feels. I press back, fucking myself on Brewer’s fingers, needing more, more, more.

“You ready for me?” he whispers in a gruff voice.

I nod, my brain too jumbled to form words, let alone sentences. I hear the condom package tear open, and seconds later, his fingers slip out of me and something much larger bumps against my entrance.

“Remember not to tense,” Brewer instructs and slowly pushes in.

“Mother fucker,” I hiss, collapsing my forearms onto the bed.

“Just breathe, Pete.”

The use of my real name stops my heart for a second, and I’m distracted enough to relax and let Brewer push deeper. I clench my fists and try to stay relaxed. It’s too much. I don’t know how he likes this but nope, not for me.

He eases in slowly with shallow thrusts as I breathe through the invasion. The burning sting starts to ease, but the feeling of being stretched and full is...odd. Not necessarily unpleasant, but nothing to really write home about either.

“Doing okay, grizzly?” Brewer checks, his voice rough with restraint.

“Yeah,” I assure him.

“Hold on then, because it’s about to get good.”

Brewer tugs on my hips and forces me a little higher. When he pulls out and pushes back in at a new angle, and ooooh—the tingling heat is back, spreading from my balls, to my dick, to the pit of my stomach.

I balance my weight on one arm and reach for my cock with the other, but Brewer barks out a reprimand.

“Don’t touch yourself. I’m going to fuck the cum out of you, grizzly bear.”

Holy fucking hell that’s hot.

I grunt and put my arm back down. He’s fucking me in slow, shallow thrusts, and I need more. I push back against him, taking him all the way in until his balls slap against mine.

Brewer groans this time and digs his fingers into my hips as he tries not to lose control. He recovers himself after a few seconds and slams into me hard and deep over and over again, pummeling my prostate until I’m shaking, fucking back into him as I chase the electric heat spreading through my lower body.

“Oh Micah, fuck, that’s—” My words are cut off by a long moan as he pegs my prostate again.

“Peter,” he gasps, his fingers digging harder into my hips and his thrusts becoming more erratic.

My cock throbs and one more thrust has me painting the comforter and my chest with cum. My hole pulses around Brewer’s dick, buried to the hilt. I can feel his answering pleasure as his body tenses and he swells inside me.

He stills and then gives a few more weak twitches as he rides out the aftershocks. I’m relieved to be able to collapse when he pulls out, my own body having been wrung out of pleasure.

“I asked a few of them to fuck me, and they wouldn’t. I was just a big brute to them, fucking me would’ve shattered that image I think.”

I turn my head and find him removing the condom and tossing it in the trash. Then he climbs back into bed beside me and turns to face me.

“Aw, well I always knew you were my bitch, so no image shattered,” Brewer teases.

“Fuck you,” I growl without any venom.

“Mmm, maybe next time.”

He lays down and closes his eyes. There’s something peaceful about his face when he’s sleeping. Or maybe it’s the tequila talking.

I lay awake, sifting through a million thoughts and feelings running through my mind. I’d been right, letting Brewer have my ass off camera did feel intimate. But I can’t find it in me to regret it. I hate to admit it, but if I’d had to dream up the perfect scenario of my first time bottoming, Brewer checked every box and then some. He made me feel safe and comfortable, and he’d made me come harder than I knew was possible. All in all, I’d let Brewer top me again. Well, I will let him top me again on camera. But I might even consider it off-camera too.