Chapter Four

 

The Internet is a wonderful thing. Or hateful, depending on how I looked at it. Much as I didn’t want to think of Todd, I still couldn’t resist checking out the games the Rangers had lined up over the next weeks.

They had a meeting against Seattle two days after Todd told me to leave his apartment. Then trips to San Diego, Denver, Vancouver then back to Los Angeles before home to New York in a little over two weeks’ time.

This meant he wouldn’t be around for any delicious make-up kisses, nor would he be around to bruise my emotions further. Which was for the best. We were not meant to be if a kiss had produced a such violent, emotional reaction in him and left me feeling beaten up.

Being the masochistic bastard I was, however, I found it impossible not to watch the Rangers’ first game of the week. After popping a beer, I settled down to see them take on Seattle.

Todd pelted onto the ice, his head low, his skates blading over the surface. His team members held their sticks aloft as they sped out behind him, greeting the jubilant crowd’s riotous whistles and hoots with waves and grins. Todd didn’t. His stick was down, the business end ready to fight, tackle and score those all-important points.

Sitting on my sofa, ankles crossed on the table, I steeled myself and watched him play out his battle against the Seattle crew. He never once looked at the crowd, only glanced at his team to assess openings and positions then flew the puck into the back of the net—a total of five times. He was on top of his game, his skill a threat to every hockey player not on his team. I was proud of him, pleased for him. But I hadn’t worn the jersey he’d bought me, even though it was sitting on the table where I’d dumped it two evenings ago, taunting me with its vivid colors and his boldly printed name splashed across the back.

When the game was over, I flicked off the TV and walked to the window, gulping my last mouthful of beer and staring at the Manhattan night. Below me, taxis and cars fought for road space as people traveled home after evenings out with friends and family. In the distance party boats chugged on the Hudson, lovers enjoying champagne cruises, romantic meals and slow dances.

My aloneness was a thick woolen blanket. It had been a long time since I’d felt this way. In a city full of people, how could I feel so isolated? So shrouded and trapped in my single life. Okay, I was independent, strong, successful and had great friends, but still, there was something missing. For too many months I would have said that something was Tony, but not anymore. Now I knew it was something else. Possibly even someone else.

But once again it wasn’t to be. I’d just have to wait for the next piece of the puzzle that was my destiny to come along. For the briefest of moments I’d hoped it was the hot hockey player I’d watched on TV tonight, who’d kissed me as though his life depended upon it. But that moment had passed so quickly it could have been a dream, a snippet of memory, an illusion.

I turned from the window and headed into my bedroom. No, that kiss was no illusion, dream or false memory. It had been too alive and real, his taste had lingered on my lips until I’d gotten home. But Todd wasn’t that person, he wasn’t my missing puzzle piece. Once again I’d have to put on my act of bravado. Face the world as though I hadn’t had my hopes raised and dashed in the blink of an eye.

I was alone and happy to be alone.

Or so I would tell myself, and anyone who happened to ask.

 

*****

 

I wandered into the bar Gareth and Joel ran together on lower Sixth Avenue. It was late morning and there were no customers in Rizzles yet, just a delivery guy Joel was dealing with.

“Matthew, hey, glad you’re here. Joel and I have been discussing the opening night of your exhibition,” Gareth said.

“Yeah, what about it?” I asked, resting my butt on my usual stool at the window end of the bar.

“It’ll be black-tie, won’t it?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“Oh, it’s got to be. Come on.” Gareth set an espresso in front of me. “Joel just got a new tux and he looks hot to trot in it.”

Joel glanced over at the mention of his name, spotted me and lifted a hand.

I nodded as a way of hello. “Yeah, I guess it will be. I’m leaving Theodore’s to organize the details.”

“The invites are out.”

“Are they? Did you get a V.I.P. one?”

“Yeah, look.” Gareth pulled out an invitation from behind the bar. “It says formal evening wear.”

“Then a tux will do.”

“Mmm, you’re right. Tuxes all round. What about Raymond? Will he wear a tux?”

“No doubt a tux with a twist.” I took a sip of the hot, strong coffee, looking forward to the much-needed caffeine kick after my restless night. Thoughts and images of Todd had rattled around my brain until the early hours of the morning, memories of that sweet but oh so hot kiss prodding my heart and my cock until eventually I’d had to jerk off in the bathroom, release some of the buildup of sexual frustration that was par for the course of being a single guy.

“What’s up with you?” Gareth asked, putting one elbow on the bar and leaning over to look me in the eyes.

“Nothing.”

He pursed his lips and frowned. “You sure?”

“Yep.”

There was a pause, then, “Only last week you were talking of nothing but the exhibition and your Armani project with Todd Carty.”

I glanced out the window at the mention of his name.

Gareth knew me too well.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“Nothing. We finished the shoot, that’s all. I’m due at Armani this afternoon with the final shot selection.”

“Happy with them?”

“Yep.”

“Is pretty boy happy?”

“Don’t call him that.”

Gareth held up his hands. “Sorry, I thought everyone called him that.”

“Yeah, they do. But that doesn’t mean he likes it.”

Gareth gave a slow nod. “Ah, so you talked about more than camera angles and lighting then.”

“’Course we did. I’ve been working on and off with him for weeks now, catching shots in between his time on the road and practice commitments.”

Joel stepped up behind Gareth and rested a hand on his shoulder. His dark eyes twinkled my way. “Oh, are you talking about Todd Carty? Damn, I thought you would have at least brought him here for a few raunchy photographs, Matthew, so we could have met the god of the rink.”

“Not really the look Armani was going for,” I said, flicking my hand around the dimly lit bar before once again nursing my coffee.

I glanced up. Gareth was still staring at me as if trying to read my mind.

“What?” I snapped.

He shrugged. “You tell me. I just haven’t seen that pissed-off-at-the-world face of yours for a while. It disturbs me.”

“Where do want this stock?” the delivery guy shouted.

Joel rolled his eyes then dashed off to supervise the boxes being unloaded into the basement.

“Buddy?” Gareth said in a soft voice. “What happened?”

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, tasting a bitter metallic flavor that I quickly washed away with a gulp of coffee.

He reached over and rested his hand on mine. “I’m here, we’re here if you want to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Sure?”

I forced a smile. “Yeah, nothing worth wasting breath on.”

He studied me for a long moment, as though assessing whether or not I was being honest. And I was. Because what else could I say? Todd had been suppressing gay urges for years, we’d shared one seriously steamy kiss then he’d ordered me to leave. How the fuck could I explain that?

Joel wandered back, shoving a folded invoice into his pocket. “So the opening, the whole gang is going to be there. Gareth is doing shots for the rags and your website and I’ll write up the details, so think of quotes for me, just me, not any of the other journalists that might be hanging around. I deserve the best scoop since I’m one of your best friends.”

I laughed. Joel fancied himself a bit of a reporter and had contacts at several newspapers and magazines who bought articles off of him from time to time. “Sure,” I said. “You’ll want comments about my sexy beach models and their naked butts then.”

Gareth laughed, too. “Well, I don’t know about mine, but definitely Joel’s sexy butt. I can’t wait to see it blown up on a ten-foot canvas.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Joel’s cheek. His hand slipped low and I guessed he was getting a good grope in, too.

Who could blame him?

 

*****

 

My afternoon meeting at Armani went on for hours and it was dark by the time I arrived home. They’d short-listed three of my shots of Todd, including one with the rain beating down on him as he stood on the Intrepid, hockey stick above his head, bottle of Raw thrust forward.

I was pleased. Todd had liked that picture, said he could cope with the ribbing from teammates if it was the shot to hit the billboards and magazines. If Todd was happy and Armani was happy then who was I to complain?

Letting myself into my apartment, I kicked my shoes off, dropped my keys onto the counter and sighed. My work was done. I had a fat check that would cover my rent for the next six months, along with two more Armani contracts in the pipeline. They liked my style. That was good, more than good. It was a fucking respectable wage.

But I didn’t feel as elated as I should. Studying Todd’s chiseled face all afternoon had reminded me the tiny spark of whatever it was we’d had was over, extinguished. Before it had barely taken a breath it had been snuffed out.

 

*****

 

That gruff mood stayed with me over the next week and the weekend. I went to the gym most days, visited Theodore’s and buttoned down the final details for the exhibition—which I should have been paying more attention to. Luckily it didn’t seem to matter that I’d been slightly off the ball. The head curator, Carmen, had it all organized. The canvases were in and we agreed to order a second wave of prints, exact ones to be finalized by the following Wednesday.

The gallery had been getting great business since an advert in the New York Times had placed them on the map. It was all looking fantastic for me—in terms of profile and dollars in my pocket.

 

*****

 

I watched the final game of the week late at night with Chinese takeout and a six-pack of beer. Rangers against L.A. Kings. Todd appeared hungrier than ever for the shots and made it happen yet again. The commentator nearly gave himself a stroke shouting about Carty’s talent and rare skills and how good it was for the Rangers that he was playing for them.

Todd himself looked almost happy. But not quite. He tugged his helmet off at the end of the game. Accepted pats on the back from his teammates and collected red roses from a group of busty girls who skated onto the rink. But he didn’t smile, not really. I knew several of his smiles now—posed, genuine, desire-laced. I’d been one of the privileged few to see more than the official side of the man of the moment.

I flicked off the TV and went to bed. My cock was hard and unfulfilled, but I couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. It was how my life was—hard dick, heart full of love but no one to hold. Maybe I should reconsider my whole aversion to one-night stands. It would at least relieve the ache in my balls and the tension in my guts.

No.

That thought lasted barely a second. Sex without the emotion just didn’t do it for me. Never had and never would. Just because I was gay didn’t mean I didn’t want love to go with the physical. Not to say I didn’t like sex—I did, a lot. But I also wanted a future. Maybe I was overly romantic but I couldn’t help it, it was how I was. I guessed it was the arty type in me.

 

*****

 

Scalding water blasted me in a frantic pounding of needle-points, my hotter-than-hot shower setting me up for the day. After rinsing suds from my body I forced myself out, wrapped a towel around my waist and paused. The intercom was ringing.

“Hello?”

“Matthew, it’s me. Let me in.”

Shit a brick. Todd!

I hesitated, then, “Use the stairs, the elevator is out of order.”

What the hell does he want?

A wave of nervousness attacked my belly. I couldn’t cope with any more seesawing of my feelings. I was a big tough guy, but Todd seemed to have the ability to hack right to my core.

I opened my apartment door an inch so he could let himself in. There were eleven flights of stairs for him to climb. But that was okay, because it would give me time to put on coffee and pull on jeans.

My hand was shaking as I spooned granules into my coffeemaker and I pursed my lips in annoyance. I couldn’t be this on edge. It wasn’t cool. I had to keep it together. Todd was probably coming to ask for the jersey back or change his mind about one of the pictures going to Armani. Well it was too late on both accounts. The jersey was mine and the shots were already submitted.

I flicked the switch on the coffee machine and rubbed my fingertips over my forehead. His mood was going to be dark, judging by his actions on the ice this week and the tone of his voice just then. But it was tough. Just because he was the golden boy of the Rangers didn’t mean he would automatically get what he wanted. That wasn’t how it worked.

“Matthew.”

I startled at the sound of his deep voice then turned sharply and saw him standing in the kitchen doorway, filling it with the width of his shoulders.

“Fuck, you must have run up those damn stairs,” I said, frowning and feeling cross that I hadn’t thrown on jeans first rather than attending to the coffee. I felt far too exposed and vulnerable standing in front of Todd in just a towel. My cock felt far too exposed and vulnerable.

“Yeah, I did. Run that is.”

He wasn’t even vaguely out of breath.

“I thought you were in L.A.?”

“I just landed.”

“And you came here?”

He tightened his lips and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “I had to see you.”

I rested back against the counter. Crossed my arms over my bare chest and dug my fingers into my biceps. I was aware of my toes curling on the hardwood floor. “Why?”

“You hate me.” He held out his hand, gesturing at my stance. “I can tell.”

“I don’t hate you.” I shook my head stiffly. Hate Todd. Never.

“I behaved like a complete asshole. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again.” He took a step toward me. “Matthew, I’m sorry.”

My throat suddenly felt tight, as did my belly. “Sorry for what? The kiss or telling me to leave?”

“Not the kiss. I’m not sorry for kissing you. No way.” He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his cream-colored pants, sucked in a deep breath and looked down at his brown leather sneakers.

The coffeepot clicked and started its low gurgling routine. I studied the way Todd’s black top stretched over his pecs, the gray scarf that hung in a loose twist around his neck and the dark beanie perched on his head, covering his soft, trademark blond hair. An annoying swell of lust expanded in my chest and I willed the feeling not to travel down to my cock.

But damn! Why does he have to look so edible?

“I’m sorry for telling you to leave,” he said, looking back up at me. “You must think I’m fucking pathetic.”

“No, I just think you’re confused about your sexuality.”

“I’m not.” He took three fast paces toward me. Stopped when he was so close I could have reached out and touched him. “I’m not confused at all. I like guys, I like you.” He paused. “All this running around with women over the years, okay, I’ve been attracted to them, a few I even thought could be special. But, Matthew, there’s something about you, and that kiss. Fuck!” He tugged off his beanie and chucked it at the counter. It landed on a box of biscuits.

“For the first time in my life I feel I can get the satisfaction I’ve been hunting for and never fucking finding.” He paused and pulled in a deep breath. “I feel, with you, I can be the person I’m meant to be.” He shook his head and his eyes looked heavy and tired. “Matthew, I’m gay, bi, whichever slot you want to put me in. I’ve accepted that about myself now, more than accepted it, I’ve known it for a while and I’m proud of it.” He moved closer still. “So please say I haven’t ruined my chances with you because of a knee-jerk reaction to something so powerful it took away my damn ability to think.”

My mind was swimming. “Todd, this is a lot to take in.”

“I know. It is for me, too.” He shoved his hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in a messy but still über-trendy kind of way. “That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.”

“What?”

He swallowed, pulling his lips tight as he did so. “That I’m gay, into guys.” He hesitantly rested his fingertips on my forearm.

I gave a hint of a smile. He deserved recognition for his admission.

“And whatever this is,” he said, “between us. It’s the first time I’ve been honest enough with myself to go for it, and I’m excited and nervous but damn well determined to see it through.”

His touch left my arm, wound up through my black coils of chest hair and settled at the hollow of my throat. Each part of my flesh that connected with his fizzed and burned, a heated trail of longing that was sending blood racing to my cock. There was no way I could stop an erection now. I was hardening by the second.

“Todd,” I managed, my voice shaky as his presence engulfed me entirely. I could smell his tangy cologne, feel his body heat seeping into my skin. He was all I could see, hear, think about. He filled my mind, my thoughts. If I wasn’t careful, he would wheedle into a very delicate place in my soul. “Please, don’t make me want you. It’s not fair, I just can’t—”

“Shh.” He pressed his index finger over my lips. “Want me all you want, Matthew. You’ve damn well got me.”

He leaned forward and kissed me, those luscious soft lips of his pressing over mine and his tongue prodding and peeking into my mouth and searching for connection.

I wanted to melt into him. Take everything. Grab him, fuck him, claim him. But I couldn’t. My poor aching heart was screaming in confusion, those tight bolts surrounding it since Tony had left were stiff and unyielding. “Todd.” I pushed at his chest, my palms connecting with an immovable mass that didn’t budge an inch.

“Matthew,” he murmured, “give me another chance.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me close and squeezing me up against his body. “I won’t give you any reason to doubt me.” He trailed kisses over my cheek until his mouth rested at my ear and I could hear his choppy breaths.

I weakened into his embrace. It had been so long since I’d been held like this. In a way that was both protective and passion-infused. I felt my eyes sting. Not that I was one for crying but there was a battle raging within myself. Should I believe him when he said he wanted me or run for the hills? Jekyll was wrestling Hyde, common sense fighting against longing and hope.

“Be cool,” he whispered, stroking down my back in a soothing way. “Let me show you how I feel.”

I pulled away a fraction, just far enough to look into his eyes. I saw anxiety and desire, and an honesty that made me want to fall to my knees. But I didn’t, instead I allowed him to kiss me again. Hungrily, passionately and in a way that cemented all of his words. Todd Carty did indeed want me, and in a deliciously sinful way, if his wandering hands were anything to go by.

He was touching my back, my butt, squeezing my ass cheeks through the towel, checking out contours and firmness, learning my shape.

I groaned, shut my eyes and tipped my head back as his wet kisses traveled down my neck. My cock was in full ready-for-action mode, hot and rock-hard, straining against the flimsy towel.

I hissed in a breath as his kiss suddenly turned sharp and nipping. He sucked hard at my skin, pulling flesh into the taut band of his mouth. I clung to him and realized that I didn’t care, the thought of a hickey from Todd was exquisite; it would remind me this moment had been real—later, when I was alone again.

“Ah, fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, heading lower and kissing over my collarbone.

Opening my eyes, I saw the tousled locks of his hair by my chin. I could feel his fingers brushing through my chest hair, tangling, tugging, sliding and circling my nipples. I willed my weak legs to stay holding me upright, his hands on me the most erotic thing I’d felt in such a fucking long time.

“I want you, Matthew,” he said, dropping to his knees and curling his fingers over the tucked-in section of towel.

“Todd?” I took half a step backward and collided with a cupboard.

He didn’t release me, instead he looked up steadily, his eyes, I swear, a whole shade of blue darker. “I can’t deny it anymore,” he said, tugging the towel and letting it slide from my hips and fall to the floor.

I scrabbled for the counter, gripping the edge. The sight of my big, dark cock springing forward toward Todd’s face was almost enough to make me lose my ability to stand.

Todd yanked the scarf from around his neck, irritably tossing it aside to land near the towel. He placed his flattened palm over my hip, pinning me in place. His shoulders hitched as he drew in a deep breath and stared at my cock.

“This is all so fast,” I said on a heavily expired breath.

He wrapped his fist around my shaft and gave a firm squeeze.

“Ah, fucking hell!” I swore, locking my knees and clenching my butt cheeks. His fingers were so big and strong.

“Your dick is awesome,” he said. “I love this freckle on the end.”

I couldn’t even bring myself to breathe as he stuck out his tongue and swiped it over the small brown dot that sat to the left of my slit. The sensation was sublime, burning and sweet, a delicate touch that created a frenzy of need within me. A need that was consuming, desperate and about to burst free.

But I can’t let it. I have to contain it.

My balls ached and my ass tightened. Willing control, I stared at the contrast of his sandy, sun-streaked hair near my shock of black, riotous pubes. “Todd, for fuck’s sake, what the hell are you doing?” I gasped, unable to suppress a small rock of my hips toward him.

“I’m gonna give you head.”

I clenched my jaw so tight I feared for the survival of my teeth, watching, utterly mesmerized, as he opened his mouth wide, fluttered his eyes shut and drew my glans between his moist, pink lips.

The tripping of my heart was frighteningly rapid, erratic beats that rattled in my chest. It had been so long since I’d received a blowjob. And now, here was hotter-than-hot Todd Carty, kneeling before me, feasting on the head of my cock.

So this is what it’s like to have all your Christmases and birthdays come at once.

“Oh God,” I groaned, releasing the counter with one hand and digging my fingers into his hair with the other. “Really?”

A guttural moan rumbled up from his chest. He moved his hand and sank deeper onto my cock, burying it in the hot moisture of his mouth. Deeper and deeper, my tip smoothing over his hard palate and my shaft experiencing the soft duvet of his tongue. It was a beautiful feeling and I clawed at his scalp. On fire, lost to sensation, lost to Todd. He was all that existed. Him and what he was doing to me.

With several noisy slurps, he sucked back up, his fingers caressing each tiny section of my saliva-coated shaft as it withdrew from the suction of his mouth.

Fuck, he was an expert in what felt good for a cock.

He was sinking low again, taking me in, more and more. Eventually I hit the back of his throat and he stilled.

Frozen in that wedged position, I relished the satiny texture buffeting my cock head and the firm grip of his tongue rippling under my shaft.

He rolled my ball-sac with his free hand.

“Fuck,” I cried, my whole body jerking. “Be careful.”

The feel of his fingers stroking me, cradling my tight balls, had lights flashing before my eyes, even though they were wide open. My vision blurred. Todd’s hair became a fuzzy mass, the wooden floor a watery blur.

He was speeding up now, sucking me in, pulling away. Faster and faster, the tight suction hovering at a point of painful pleasure.

I locked both my hands onto his head. Gripped his scalp and moved my hips with his increasing tempo. Quickly I took over the pace, controlling the rhythm to just the speed and depth I liked.

Cum boiled in my scrotum. Soon I would climax. It was there, waiting, being jostled and adored by his teasing fingers on my balls.

“Shit, man, you’re going to get it.” The point of no return was seconds away. I was pumping my whole pelvis toward his face, my cock as hard as it could get.

He groaned and took me deeper. How that was possible I had no idea. My shaft was at bursting point, my balls painfully infused with pressure.

“Todd, I’m coming. Fuck, here it is.”

He tightened his grip and swallowed my cock head as the first, frantic burst of semen shot up my shaft, blazing and burning the track for more.

“Oh God, yes, fuck it, swallow me, all of me.” I steeled my grip on his head, held it still, viselike, as I increased the momentum of my hips and forged down his throat. Exploding out my pleasure in spurt after spurt of bliss.

He took it all, gulping, moaning, staying with me. I couldn’t control the moment of taking what I needed, even though I was rough and demanding. It was how I was.

“So fucking sexy,” I gasped. “Yeah, that’s it.” My cock was tingling, my balls empty. I eased my grip on his head and stilled my hips.

He let me slide from his mouth, catching my shaft in his palm.

Wrapping my hands around his shoulders, I pulled him up. I needed to kiss him, hold him. Tell him how fucking awesome that had been.

He began to get to his feet, but only made it a few inches before lurching forward and burying his face against my stomach. His nose squashed up against my navel and his eyes screwed up tight. “Ah, ah, Jesus…” He pressed his face harder into my hair-coated belly. “Oh, fucking hell.” He released my shaft and scrabbled for his groin, squeezed himself through his pants as he collapsed onto his knees. “Ohhh…”

I stooped and rubbed my hands over his trembling shoulders. He was being racked with the spasms and shakes that I’d been subjected to moments ago. “Todd,” I whispered. “Todd, you okay?”

“Oh fuck, yeah,” he said, allowing me to help him to his feet.

“You sure?” I looked at his flushed cheeks and his dazed expression.

“Yeah, shit, never better.” He grinned suddenly and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted of me—salty and with a hint of my minty shower gel.

“I’m sorry, was I too rough?” I murmured, running my hands down his back and delighting in being able to grab the orbs of his ass and pull him close.

“No, perfect. You’re perfect.” He looked me in the eyes. “It’s just been fucking years since I’ve come in my pants.”