Aced (18 page)

“Ouch,” I said, and glared over my shoulder at him to find Ace with a wolfish grin. “What was that for? I did what you said.”

Ace gripped my hips, ground his cock against the crack of my ass, and said, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to slap your ass since the day you walked out in front of my car. So you had that one coming,
Daydream
.”

“That better not be the only thing fucking coming in the next few minutes,” I said, and pushed my ass back on him, and just like that, Ace’s mouth clamped shut and his grip on my hips tightened. Then one hand moved to line up his cock, and I clenched the sheets to ready myself for that delicious first slide.

This is happening. This is seriously fucking happening.
 

It was a sweet burn as Ace slowly pushed inside me, and once he was past the first ring of muscle, he stopped, giving me time to adjust. But screw needing time. I’d waited long enough.

“More.” I grunted, easing back, taking him inside, inch by inch.
 

“Oh
fuck
.” Ace’s free hand pushed down hard on my lower back. “Just…give me a second,” he said, and when I heard him take a deep breath, I took one of my own.
 

I was tightly wound, too fucking excited to last long, and when I exhaled, I tried to relax my body and open up to him. As he began to move again, my head fell forward, and all I could feel, all I could think about, was the fullness of him as he filled me completely. His balls were flush against my ass as he held us there, and then began to pull back out. Slow and easy, still holding himself back, and it wasn’t until I said, “Fuck me like you mean it,” that he finally let loose.

As Ace picked up the pace, giving me the deeper, harder thrusts that I’d begged for, our groans became louder and more desperate, and I dropped to my elbows and then reached down to grab hold of my dick. I stroked myself once, twice, and then I felt Ace’s front flush against my back as he reached around to take over the handjob. He pumped me in time with his thrusts, and
God,
had it ever felt this good?
 

The answer was no. No, it fucking hadn’t. Not even close, and I had a feeling that if this was the preview of what was to come, then I was in more trouble than I realized.
 

Ace’s hips punched against my ass as I took everything he had to give, and as his big hand worked my cock to the point of detonation, I let out a groan.
 

“I’m gonna—”

“Come?” Ace finished, his thumb swirling over the head of my erection, and I didn’t get the chance to nod or say anyfuckingthing before the orgasm ripped through me in a rush that left me breathless.
 

Holy…shit.
As Ace continued to milk me for every last drop, I lowered my head to my forearms, my body shaking as I took in a ragged gulp of air.
 

“Fuck,” Ace moaned into my back. His movements became unsteady even as he drove faster into me. “Fuck, fuck, fu—” He pushed all the way inside me and came with a growl.

And I loved it. I loved the way he couldn’t stop himself from biting down on my shoulder as he gently rocked against me. Loved the sweat of his body marking me. And especially loved the heavy weight of him pressing me into the mattress after we’d both collapsed, unable to even hold ourselves up anymore.

And the best thing? What I’d be thinking about even days later? It was the way he kept us connected, his cock still inside me, his hands over mine and linking our fingers, and the way he nuzzled into the crease of my shoulder and planted soft kisses there.
 

That said more to me about what would happen next than any words he could’ve spoken. It wasn’t a quick fuck for him. And that realization had me gone. Lost. Forever ruined by the one man I’d never expected.

I was on complete and utter Locke-down.

13

HARD THROTTLE

AFTER WORKING UP an appetite, Dylan had ordered Chinese takeout, my diet be damned, and a dozen cartons of white and fried rice, lo mein noodles, sesame chicken, and Mongolian beef littered the floor around where we sat on the couch.
 

“I know you saw Russell Hudson’s dick when you guys were shooting
Madder than Hell
,” Dylan said. With his shirt off, showcasing his tanned skin, and his pants on but unbuttoned, he looked mouthwatering. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he held up his pinkie. “It was like this, wasn’t it?”
 

I laughed and shook my head. “It’s not like we were all changing together in a locker room.”

“But you were all practically naked in that movie the whole time, and I’ve heard how those pouches work.”

“Pouches?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. I knew what he was referring to, but I just wanted to make him say it.
 

“The ones you have to wear so that you’re not actually penetrating your costar. Unless that costar is me, and then I fully support complete nudity.”

When I made a motion to zip my lips shut, Dylan threw a hand up. “Come on, he’s enough of a dick in person—I just want to make sure the package doesn’t match the ego. Total karma.”
 

Okay, he did have a point. The only thing bigger than Russell’s ego was Kanye’s, and I hadn’t liked him much when we’d filmed together.
 

“Fine,” I said, and reached over to his extended pinkie, covering the tip of it. “About…that.” Then I winked and picked my chopsticks back up, spearing another piece of beef as Dylan’s mouth dropped open.
 

“I fucking knew it,” Dylan said, a grin on his face. As I brought another piece of beef to my mouth, he began to shake his head. “Can I just say, I’ve never seen anyone eat with chopsticks that way. Do you stab sushi too?”
 

“It’s the quickest way to pick it up without using my fingers. Which I’d do, but I’m trying to be somewhat civilized over here.”

“Not sure what you did to me in that bed over there would be considered
civilized
. Savage, maybe.” He bit down on his lip and then added, “Don’t worry. I’m
definitely
a fan.”

“So we’ve established from your Ace movie collection,” I said with a laugh, and then glanced around the sparse room. “Not sure where you keep them. Maybe with the condoms and lube in that drawer over there?”

“You make it sound like I use your movies as porn,” Dylan said, as he leaned down to grab one of the food containers, and then piled the contents onto his plate. “In which case, you would be right. I just store them on my computer so I can travel light.”

I stared at him for a long moment, still not believing that someone I’d thought of so often had done the same thing with me. What were the odds?

“What?” Dylan wiped at his chin. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.”

He held up the carton. “Did you want more rice?”

“No.”

“You know, I’ve always heard that I’m a, and I quote, ‘cagey bastard,’ but I think you could give me a run for my money.”

“Is that so? Maybe you aren’t asking the right questions.”

Dylan’s brow lifted, and then he set his plate on the floor and crossed his legs underneath him. “Do you, Ace Locke, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“You can’t handle the truth,” I said automatically, quoting one of my favorite movies, and when Dylan pursed his lips, I grinned.
 

“That’s what I mean. You’re always deflecting. Always locked up tight. I’ve seen the glimpses, so now I wanna know—when are you gonna let the raging beast out to play?”

“Raging beast?” I repeated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. I saw it in your eyes when I gave you permission to fuck the ever-loving hell out of me. But just so you know, with me, you don’t have to wait for permission. You have it.”

“Jesus.” I rubbed my forehead, as if it would hide the fact that my face was probably turning an embarrassing shade of red. It wasn’t like I was a prude, but I’d never actually had someone give me a post-game analysis.

Dylan began to chuckle, and then his hand was on my thigh. “Nothing wrong with liking it rough. Hell, I think after tonight I’ll prefer it that way.”

“With your mouth, I’m shocked I’m the first to put you in your place.”

“Yessss, there you go. Let me have it.”

Was he serious? “So…you’re not kidding. You really did like it?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure you could tell from the way I came all the fuck over your hand.” Then Dylan grew pensive, and he said, “Can I ask you something, since we’re being honest? Is this a…new thing for you?”

“You asking if I’m a virgin?”

“Well…maybe. Or something close?”

How the hell to answer that? Or, more to the point, how open did I want to be about my sexual history with a man that had guys lining up around the block for him. Although he could think the same about me, so… Oh, fuck it.
 

After setting my plate on the floor, I sat back on the couch with my body turned toward Dylan and tried to figure out where to start. “Look, I know everyone has this impression of me already—”

“Nope, don’t lump me in that group.
You
tell me who you are.”

I blew out a breath and rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. “It’s only been in the last year that I’ve been free to be open about who I am. Before that it was a series of girlfriends, usually arranged by my team or my parents.”

“Did you…you know…”

“Sleep with my team?”

“No, sleep with the girlfriends.”
 

Yeah, that was the sticky part, one that would tell me whether he was as open as he claimed. “I did. Not all of them—God knows the press thought I was some kind of manwhore—but yeah.”

Dylan chewed on his lip and then held up a finger. “I think I need some alcohol for this. One sec.”
 

He pushed off the couch and then stepped over the food containers as he made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of vodka, two glasses, and some orange juice, and came back to the sofa.
 

“All right,” he said, after he had mixed together the alcohol and fruit juice and handed me a glass. Then he swallowed the contents of his glass in one long pull. “Now I’m ready. So, you’re bisexual.”

I had to laugh at the wary expression on his face, so I decided to first set his mind at ease. “No, I’m not bisexual. I like men. I’ve always liked men. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate a woman and that I didn’t try to be attracted to them for the sake of my family or my image. It was something that any time I brought it up was always pushed aside, swept under the carpet like this big, dirty secret. And I’m not stupid. I’d wager at least half of the people you see on TV and in movies are gay, but you and the rest of America would never know because that shit is kept under wraps. If you want a career as anything other than a side piece, you play by the rules.”

“But you broke them,” Dylan said, pulling his legs up to his chest. “I saw your press conference last year when you came out. That was an incredibly brave thing to do.”

“Brave? That wasn’t fucking brave. What that was was coming clean for almost ruining Shayne’s life.”

“Shayne? Like the cute redhead from your party Shayne?”

I took a sip of my drink. “The very one. I’d sought her out privately as a matchmaker because I thought I was ready to make a life with someone, even in secret. But her boss outed me, and Shayne put out that fire by covering for me. Acting as a beard, as they say. But I didn’t realize that by helping me, she was ruining her own happiness by hurting someone she cared about. And when I found out… Well, how could I take her down with my sinking ship? No, it wasn’t the brave thing to come out. It was the right thing.”

“It doesn’t seem to have hurt you, though. I mean, from what I can tell. You’ve still got your career and people know—”

“Because pictures of me with a boyfriend aren’t splashed all over the magazines. It’s not in everyone’s faces, so they assume it’ll go away. Out of sight, out of mind. Middle America doesn’t want a gay action hero, and men—the core audience—won’t pay to see it.”

Dylan’s eyes softened at my final words. “So in a way, even though you came out publicly, you’re still…trapped in a sense.”

I picked up the drink he’d mixed for me and took a long swallow of the liquid before nodding.

“And that’s the reason you have an insane tail now wherever you go? They’re all waiting to break the story first?”

“Yeah,” I said, and ran a hand over the back of my neck.
Shit, I didn’t mean for things to get so damn serious.
But there was something about Dylan that eased me. He was easy to talk to, and, I was relieved to find, not judgmental at all.

“That’s got to be stressful,” he said, and once again crossed his legs under him. “Always looking over your shoulder.”

Isn’t that the truth.
“In a way it’s worse than
before
I came out. Because back then I wasn’t able to pursue who I wanted. I squashed those feelings, shoved them aside, and had the cover of having a beautiful woman on my arm. No one knew any different. But now…”

Dylan let the silence hang heavy between us for several heartbeats and then urged me to continue. “Now?”

I locked my eyes with his and licked my lip, remembering the taste of him on my tongue. “Now I want you. And that’s going to be complicated.”

Dylan shifted and scooted forward until he was so close to me his knees were brushing my thigh. Then he settled back on his heels and put a hand on my naked bicep. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes, it does. They will
make
it difficult.”

“They? As in the paparazzi?”

“The press, the public, my manager, my parents. God—” I stopped myself there as I turned to face Dylan and shook my head. “They are going to fucking flip out.”

My heart raced at the thought of
that
conversation, and I shot off the couch. My parents had been weird enough when I’d come out. I couldn’t imagine their reaction to a boyfriend. Let alone a very public and
out
boyfriend.