Celebrity 1 - Wrong Number, Right Guy (7 page)

Ryan knelt on the bed. Dar had a small smile on his lips and he didn’t resist the urge to kiss it. Dar’s eyes closed and he leaned into the moment. Ryan tasted him, and himself on Dar, loving the fact that his cock had been here, too.

Still kissing playfully with teeth and lips, Ryan squirted lube into his hand. He rubbed Dar’s cock, enjoying its heated length in his palm. There was a moment when cool lube touched Dar, when Dar gasped against his mouth.

The small sound, so intimate, so close, lifted a riot of butterflies in Ryan’s belly. He decided right then that the moment Dar came, he wanted to be kissing him to feel it again—that soft inward sigh he was unable to suppress.

God, yes
.
Ryan wrapped his arms around Dar. Lying back on the bed, he pulled his lover with him, their bodies pressed together, heated flesh to heated flesh. Dar’s thick cock nudged his flaccid one and Ryan wriggled until Dar’s hips rested lower. He opened his legs then, wrapping them around Dar’s hips.
“I’m ready. Don’t make me wait,” Ryan whispered against his lips.
Dar kissed him again, then looked into his eyes. Ryan marveled at the bright green of them, then marveled again when they took a faraway cast as Dar’s cock breached Ryan’s ass. His pupils dilated and though Ryan wanted to catch everything, he struggled to keep his own eyes open against the onslaught of widening pressure in his ass.
“So hot,” Dar murmured.
He moved slowly, filling Ryan until he thought he’d burst. His body flexed to adjust and when Dar’s hips finally pushed against Ryan’s cheeks, he rested for a moment, giving Ryan what he needed to finally relax around Dar’s girth.
“Are you okay?”
Ryan nodded. “Kiss me?”
Dar obliged, taking his time to explore the corners of Ryan’s lips, the ridge of his teeth, to tease and rub their mouths into slick supplication.
Ryan lifted his hips and pulled Dar with his thighs.
Dar began to move. Slowly at first, their eyes still locked, occasionally sharing tender kisses, he moved like a dream over Ryan. Dar shifted, hitting Ryan’s prostate with every stroke. Wordlessly, Ryan’s lips parted on the absurd pleasure, which strangled all thought.
Dar’s pace increased, his gaze hardened as though focusing on that mystical goal just out of reach. His brow knit and his freckles disappeared in the flush of exertion. Hips flexed against Ryan and heat stoked low like glowing coals, ready to burst into flame for want of a little more. Yes, just a little more.
The soft pad of Dar’s testicles bounced on Ryan’s ass, tickling, ineffectually spanking him. Each breath from his lover came harsher than the last. Dar hung his head, puffing against Ryan’s neck. Something tight swelled behind his breastbone into a fullness of heart, some unexplainable something Ryan couldn’t interpret. He wanted this to last.
Dar’s lips brushed his neck. His breath fanned his ear. He traced kisses over Ryan’s cheekbone, then to his lips, taking hold with unspoken promises linked to sex and tenderness and forever.
Tears burned the back of Ryan’s throat for the beauty of it. No scriptwriter had explained this moment of bliss in any scene, any performance. Because this moment couldn’t be simply pieced together with anything but one perfect soul joining with another perfect soul.
Dar started to pull back, needing more air than their pressed mouths allowed as he came closer to climax.
Ryan remained enraptured with his expression. “Open your eyes,” he gasped.
Dar opened and his hazel green gaze appeared lit with those golden flecks, bright and intense. Ryan grabbed his ass and pulled with each thrust. His own breath shuddered, his body burned but he was too caught up in Dar to notice or care what his own body wanted.
Suddenly, Dar shouted, his hips jerking. He bucked three more times, emptying himself. His eyes held Ryan’s, and his breath huffed tortured and hard, which Ryan stole in a searing kiss.
Dar collapsed on him. Ryan held him close, tucking his head under his chin and kissing his shaggy brown hair. The pressure of their bodies must have been enough. His cock must have swelled again because the race of tingling up his spine was his only warning when suddenly, his hips jerked and cum shot between their bodies.
Dar chuckled. “Again?”
“Watching you turned me on,” he offered apologetically.
“Don’t be sorry.” Dar looked up at him from Ryan’s shoulder. “Don’t ever be sorry that I turn you on.” He reached between them and rubbed Ryan’s spent cock. “There’s time for more, later.”
“Come with me,” Ryan blurted suddenly. “I want to show you everything. Come home with me.”
Dar smiled. “Give me a few days to work out the vacation time, and I will.”
Ryan tightly hugged him. “God, that’s the best news I’ve heard all year.”
“Funny,” he mused. “That’s the best
offer
I’ve had all year.”

Three hours later, when Dar collected his clothes, had showered after another leisurely—and wet—fuck, it was still the best offer he’d had. Dar whistled as he tucked in his shirt.

Ryan rubbed his back when Dar sat on the edge of the bed and bent over to tie his shoes.
“I’d rather keep you naked in bed than let you go back to town,” Ryan complained.
Dar sat up, finished with his shoes. He tackled Ryan backward onto the bed. “Nothing I want more than to be there with you,” Dar whispered.
Ryan’s lips curved into a smile. Dar rubbed the sides of their noses, then dipped lower for another kiss. “I love your mouth.”
“I love your freckles.”
“I hate my freckles.”
Ryan cupped his face and placed tiny kisses on the five freckles over the bridge of his nose. “Stop hating my favorite freckles.”
“I really don’t want to leave,” Dar said, stroking through Ryan’s long hair on the mattress.
“Don’t.”
“I have to if I’m going to go into work tomorrow and tell them I’m taking vacation time at the last minute.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough of a reason,” Ryan explained. “Call in sick. Then call in vacation.”
“You’re cute, you know that?” Dar pushed up. “Walk me to the door?”
Ryan sighed. “If I have to.”
“You do.”
Dar grabbed his hand and they walked to the front door. He cracked the door open and Ryan pulled him into a final goodbye kiss.
Flashes popped behind Dar’s closed lids and Ryan suddenly stumbled away from him. Dar whirled, stunned, toward a wall of cameras.
“Mr. Phillips! Mr. Phillips! Is it true that you’re in a sexual relationship with Ryan Pierce?”
“Mr. Phillips! Did you know you were going to have sex when you leaked the location of your rendezvous?”
“Mr. Phillips! What’s it like to sleep with America’s heartthrob?”
“Did you make Ryan Pierce gay?”
“Mr. Phillips, was your sex consensual or did he attack you over lunch?”
The cabin door slammed behind Dar. Blocked from behind by Ryan’s closed cabin, and blocked in front by a sea of nameless faces, Dar searched the crowd for an escape. His stomach twisted in knots.
At the back of the crowd stood the front desk clerk. Smiling, he held up the torn letter that had held Ryan’s key. Dar felt the blood leave his face. From the slammed door behind him, to the appearance of paparazzi at his hidden cabin, there was no way Ryan would believe he hadn’t been set up.

He knew. Dar sent them here to catch us. Why did he do that?
The knowledge still seared him. It had only been a matter of tens of minutes since Dar left and half the paparazzi with him. Already Ryan’s agent paced the small living room space.
“I told you this would happen if you ever tried to get involved with a man again, Ryan,” Jack insisted. He waved his hand in the air for emphasis. “If you wanted to date, you should have told me so I could figure out a way to spin it.”
“He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to tell.”
“Obviously, he
is
that kind of guy. I was able to cover up that relationship you had before you began working the scene, but now? Jesus. Now the whole world knows you’re a fag.”
“
Gay
, Jack. I’m
gay
.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. Don’t use that word to me again,” Ryan said.
“Then don’t fucking fuck some fucker if you don’t want your prick insulted,” Jack yelled.
“Right. With that line of reasoning, I’ll just call you a cuntmuncher.”
Jack glared at him.
Ryan glared back.
“You need a fucking Public Relations specialist for this crap,” Jack said finally.
“I’ll have Maggie find one,” he replied, referring to his personal assistant.
“She should be here, not in Beverly Hills doing her nails.”
“She’s fielding some other things for me right now. I told her to stay.” Ryan felt wiped out.
Could this day get any worse?
“Well, you can kiss your movie career goodbye.”
“Jack, if you weren’t such a great agent, and most of the time, a reliable friend, I’d fire your surly ass.”
“We’ll figure this out, too, kid,” Jack promised, his voice dropping to a soothing tone.
“You think so?”
“You’re my biggest client. I know so. In the meantime, we gotta keep your boyfriend from talking. Do you think we can pay him off?”
Ryan winced. “I don’t know. I didn’t think he was someone who would compromise his morals for anything. Now I have a face-full of cameras.”
“Opportunistic people will sell their
souls
for the right price. You’re a hot commodity. He probably got paid a pretty penny for selling out this story. He got to fuck a movie star and make some cash. Shrewd little bastard,” Jack decided.
The proof had been there to see. When he’d kissed Dar goodbye, Dar had opened the door first on his way out. It had taken Ryan precious seconds to register the cameras and that he’d just kissed Dar in front of them. Then he’d heard the questions.
Dar had called it in.
I thought I was a better judge of character than that
.
It hurt. He’d had the most incredible time with Dar. He’d given up part of himself, the caution, to be with him. He’d been careful and had let his desire for Dar cloud his judgment.
I should have seen it coming
.
When Dar looked at him with those beautiful eyes full of longing, when he’d kissed him, taken him to such heights, he’d secretly been planning Ryan’s fall. Ryan had been completely snowed.
I’m such a fool
.
Tomorrow the shot was on a closed set, fortunately. Tomorrow he was getting on the plane and leaving this podunk town, and the memories that could have been sweet ones. Ryan was just as angry at himself for getting duped.
And there was something else he didn’t care to admit. Dar’s betrayal didn’t just sting, it fucking hurt. In such a short time, Dar had come to mean a lot to him. Enough to risk getting caught in the first place. He might have even come out to the media sooner rather than later, but Dar hadn’t waited for that. He’d reported it for a quick buck.
If Dar had been the right guy, and Ryan had thought he was, he’d have come clean about their relationship because Dar had made him feel special. More than special. Loved.
And goddamn it, Ryan had been falling in love with him, too. Thank God he’d never said the words.
Ryan hung his head. From his seat on the couch he could still hear Jack pacing.
“Don’t worry, kid. We’ll work this one out. You can’t win it all. Besides, publicity like this might draw a bigger crowd at the box office. It’s been known to happen. They hear that this is the flick where you went gay and suddenly everyone has to see it to find out if they can tell you’re gay or not.”
“Jesus. This so isn’t good.”
“Lemonade,” Jack barked, characteristically only giving a word for the old adage about getting lemons.
“I’m flying home tomorrow, Jack. I’ll call Maggie to arrange it. I need a few weeks to figure some stuff out.”
Jack stopped beside him, put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. “Don’t blame you. Don’t stay hidden. Get over it and move on.”
“I’m not sure—I just don’t know if—I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you can get over him?” Jack probed.
Ryan shrugged.
“Sounds like he wormed his way in there.”
I don’t know if I want to get over him. If I’m ready to.
Dar was going to take some time to recover from.
“There’s shit we do every day that we don’t wanna do. We do it anyway, because even if it ain’t fun, it has to get done.” Jack patted his back. “Just because you don’t know if you can get over him doesn’t mean you don’t. You decide to and that’s that.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“I’m here for ya, kid.” Jack slapped his shoulder, then paced to the door. “I’ll check in with you later.”
Ryan looked up with a mixture of humor and disbelief as the door closed behind him, leaving Ryan alone. “Yeah, you’re here for me.”

Dar’s frustration was at an all time high. Not only did he not have the direct number to reach Ryan now that he was no longer in town, but no one would give it to him.

He’d tried reaching Ryan the day the paparazzi showed up. He’d tried the front desk and that fucker who’d called in the tip, then claimed it was Dar who’d told. He’d tried the movie set. He’d gone downtown to where they’d been filming, but the crew had already rolled out of there.

No one could tell him how to reach Ryan. He was about ready to pull his hair out.
How could Ryan actually believe that shit about him? How could he? After what they’d shared, the way their bodies had intertwined with their very hearts? Or maybe that was the problem. Maybe the feelings had been one-sided. Maybe Ryan had never intended to get involved, but in getting caught together, the plan had gone seriously awry.
And to top it off, after three weeks of hell, even Brett wouldn’t return his calls. Well, he could damn well fix that. He
knew
where to find Brett.
Dar grabbed his coat, jumped in his car, and drove the two minutes to Brett’s apartment. He took the stairs two at a time and banged his fist on the door.
“Go away!”
“No! We’re talking about this and I’m not leaving until you open this door,” Dar shouted back.
“Then you’ll be out there a long time.”
“Brett, for God’s sake, I didn’t know he was the same guy.” “You did when you were fucking him,” Brett countered.
Dar considered that. “Okay. You’ve got a point there.” He rested his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know until I went for lunch, and once I did, I was so caught up in Fenmore that I didn’t think about him also being Pierce.”
The door swung open. Dar stumbled forward, catching the doorjamb to keep from falling on his face.
“Except he looks exactly like
Pierce
,” Brett snapped, slamming the door again, barely giving Dar time to jump back. “And you said you wouldn’t make a play for him.”
“Really? Are we really having this argument in the hall?”
The door swung open again. “It could have been me, Dar. He kissed me in his trailer. It could have been me if you hadn’t made a play for him.”
The door slammed on Dar a second time.
“I’m sorry, Brett. I’m really sorry that you got hurt.”
The door opened again. This time Brett leaned on the frame and looked down at him beseechingly. “He did kiss me in his trailer, didn’t he? I didn’t imagine that?”
“No, you didn’t imagine it.”
“He stage kissed me,” Brett muttered grudgingly. “He tongued you.”
“Yeah.”
“He already knew you were the guy on the phone,” Brett said.
“Yeah.”
“Goddamn it! You said you wouldn’t come onto him.”
“I know. If it had only been Pierce, I wouldn’t have ever gone down that road, Brett. You know I wouldn’t have put a fling over our friendship.”
Brett frowned. “I hate it when you’re right. Can’t I just be mad for a while longer?”
“If you want to be, but I miss you,” Dar said, shrugging a shoulder.
“Was he at least good in bed? No, don’t tell me. Tell me he was horrible and can’t kiss for shit even though I know—
personally
— that he can.”
“He made me cry,” Dar told him after a minute.
“Geez, he was that bad?”
Dar laughed, and leaned on the same doorjamb inches from his best friend. He tried to keep smiling, but his smile slipped and then his gaze did, too, as his eyes welled up with tears he’d refused to shed.
“Fucker,” Brett muttered. He pulled Dar against his chest. “I’ll kill him for hurting you.”
Dar nodded, buried his face in Brett’s shoulder and laughed through the tightness in his throat. “I missed you, Brett.”
“Me, too.” He hugged harder. “Seriously, I gonna kick his ass.”
“He has bodyguards,” Dar mumbled through a mouthful of shoulder and T-shirt.
“Fine. I’ll kick their asses first.
Then
I’ll kill him for hurting you.”
“Okay,” Dar agreed. “Can I come in, now?”
“No. I’m still mad. But I’ll take you to dinner so you aren’t alone.”