Guys on Top 02 - Guys on the Side (16 page)

“Angelo, you ready?”

Jumping at Corey’s voice, Angelo unzipped his pants. “Give me a minute.”

“Okay, take your time.”

Am I ready?
He sure as hell hoped he was ready to let Corey touch him. It was only a back rub, right? He could handle it. His curiosity to test Corey’s alleged abilities outweighed his terror over getting a boner during the massage.

Removing his jeans, he set them on the chair with his shirt. In his boxer briefs, he went to the massage table and maneuvered onto his stomach, dragging the blanket over himself to cover him from the waist down. “Corey? You can come in.” Ready or not.

Angelo kept his face down on the support, not looking up when he heard Corey come in.

“You all right?”

Turning his head, Angelo looked up and watched Corey pouring oil into his palm, then rubbing his hands together. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, just relax.”

Angelo rested his face down again.

Corey went and stood at the head of the table, and his fingers rested on Angelo’s jawline, just under his ears. “Aside from having one leg shorter than the other, do you have any
actual
injuries I should know about?”

Angelo chuckled. “No.”

After that, there was no more talking.

Angelo went into almost a trance state while Corey’s hands worked behind his ears, eventually moving on to his neck and the base of his shoulders. The music tinkled softly in the background, the occasional pop of a candle flame.

By the time Corey’s thumbs began gliding between Angelo’s shoulder blades, he’d fallen into a state of pure bliss, nerve endings lighting up, pleasure coursing through his muscles in places he didn’t know could feel that way. It was touch, the power of it. And Angelo hadn’t been touched in a long time, he realized now.

How could he have gone so long without this? Without the simple pleasure of another person’s touch on his body? It wasn’t sexual, but it was completely and undeniably
sensual
.

He’d been concerned about becoming aroused during the massage, but was relieved now that he wasn’t feeling stirred that way. He was, however, loving the feel of Corey’s hands on his skin, kneading his muscles, warm pulses of physical pleasure seeming to seep into his body, tendrils of bliss finding deep places inside and soothing them.

Corey moved on to his arms, and Angelo was amazed by how much pleasure he could feel in random places there, like the taut muscles just above his wrist. He let out a satisfied breath when his fingers and palm received attention.
This feels so fucking good, it should be illegal.

Time became fuzzy. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there. His only awareness was in his body as those amazing hands slid to his lower back. Corey had begun to do something fabulous there with his thumbs, when suddenly Angelo felt a jerk run through Corey’s arms. Then the hands were gone.

“Something wrong?” Angelo asked, his voice sleepy.

“No. Everything’s fine,” Corey said, and the warm hands returned to Angelo’s skin. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.”

“Good.” The fingers began to concentrate on a single spot on Angelo’s lower back, circling and pressing deep into the muscle. Corey’s hands stilled for a long moment, and Angelo heard him let out a whistle of breath before moving to the other side of his back.

When Corey’s ministrations eventually moved on to his hips and the dip of his spine just above the towel, he began to feel a stirring in his groin, and cursed inside. He couldn’t help thinking about how good it would feel if Corey would just keep going, gliding his hands under the towel and running them over Angelo’s ass.

The thought made him involuntarily tense up, and Corey’s hands paused.

“You okay, Angelo?”

“Just tickles a little.”

“Tickles?” Corey sounded skeptical.

“Yeah.”

Corey did a last few runs down his back, pressing hard with his palms, then he stepped back from the table. “Okay, you’re done. You feel all right?”

Angelo shifted his head to look up at Corey.
He’s so damn handsome
, he thought, then squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I need a wheelchair.”

Corey laughed. “Good sign. I’ll let you get dressed. Come on out to the living room after, I’ll give you some water.”

“Okay.”

Corey left the room, and Angelo sat up with a struggle. He stood on wobbly legs and stretched his back. He felt wonderful, loose and relaxed. But despite the near ecstasy of Corey’s massage, he hadn’t felt anything
unusual
happen. No sudden, focused pains, no magical syphoning of deep emotions from his body, as Uncle Len had talked about.

After dressing, he made his way out of the room and strolled up the hallway. Corey sat in his living room on a chair, sipping a bottle of water. He looked up at Angelo, then gestured to the couch beside him. “Sit, I brought you some water.”

Angelo shuffled over and sat down, taking the water bottle from the coffee table. “Thanks.” He uncapped it and took a sip, though he wasn’t particularly thirsty. But holding the water was something to do with his hands, as he suddenly found himself nervous in Corey’s presence again, despite the soothing massage.

“You should try to stay hydrated tonight,” Corey said.

Angelo nodded, then looked up when the doorbell rang.

Corey stood. “Excuse me a minute.” He went to the door and opened it, and Angelo heard him trotting down the stairs.

Moments later he returned to the apartment, followed by a chubby man with red hair and a goatee, who held a large paper bag in his arms.

“Dewey, my man,” Corey said as he closed the door. “What have you got for me?”

The redhead grinned, then spotted Angelo on the couch. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.”

“It’s okay, come in for a minute,” Corey said. “Dewey, this is Angelo.”

“Hey.” Dewey walked over and shook Angelo’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Angelo said, feeling awkward, like an intruder.
I should leave.

“Angelo’s just chilling after a massage,” Corey said, and took his seat again.

“Oh, killer!” Dewey sat down on the other end of the couch beside Angelo. “He’s a miracle worker, isn’t he?”

Angelo nodded. “He’s got skills.”

“Okay, Corey, it’s not exactly what you wanted, but I think it’s gonna work.” Dewey reached into the bag. “My uncle is about your size, this should fit.” He pulled out a worn looking letterman’s jacket from the bag, red with white sleeves, and held it up.

Corey gasped. “Dewey! I’m supposed to be a greaser!”

“I know, but he didn’t have any leather jackets and you couldn’t fit in mine, your arms are too long. I figured this would still go with the theme. We can do your hair in a jellyroll, Wally Cleaver style.”

Standing, Corey reached over and snatched the jacket from his friend’s hands, holding it up and sneering at it. “But it matches your cheerleader outfit. We’re gonna look like a couple.”

“Oh, horrors!” Dewey said. “Come on, try it on. It’ll look cool.”

Corey slipped on the jacket, and with his blond hair and chiseled features, Angelo thought he looked like the perfect college jock, despite being a little old for the frat house.

“See?” Dewey said. “It looks great! I’ll make your hair look totally fifties, I promise.”

Corey took the jacket off and plunked down in the chair, sighing. “I wanted to look like a badass greaser.” He glanced at Angelo. “You don’t still have that stupid leather coat you wore here the other day, do you?”

Angelo laughed. “I’m afraid that belongs to Tommy.”

“Oh.” Corey wrinkled his nose. “Ew. No thanks.”

“What is all this for?” Angelo asked.

“Karaoke tomorrow night,” Dewey said. “You been to The Horse and Carriage? You should come! It’s a really good time.”

Corey flinched, and Angelo saw it. “I think I have plans, but thanks for the invite.”

“Okay, but you’re gonna miss a good time.” Dewey stood. “I’m out of here, but I’ll be by to get you tomorrow night,” he said to Corey. “Be ready, and I don’t want any moping or whining, got it?”

“Fine,” Corey said. “But you better have your moves ready for the stage.”

“I’m gonna own that fucking stage,” Dewey said as he walked to the door. “Later, Angelo, nice meeting you.”

“Same here.”

Once Dewey had gone, Corey shifted in his chair and focused on Angelo. “So do you feel okay after the massage?”

Angelo nodded. “Yeah. It was great. So ah...I take it you didn’t sense anything? You know. Whatever it is you sense with people and such.”

Corey cast his eyes down. “Not really.”

Angelo studied him, frowning. “Corey.”

Corey looked up.

“Something you’re not telling me?”

Sighing, Corey held his hands up. “Okay. Here’s the thing.”

Angelo straightened. “Uh oh. What’s the thing?”

“You sure you want to hear this?”

“Of course. That’s why I agreed to the massage, I’m curious.”

“Curious, okay.” Corey met his eyes. “I did feel something while I was working on you. But I didn’t do anything about it. Because it felt like...you wanted it there.”

“Wanted it there?” Angelo shrugged. “What do you mean, what was it you sensed?”

“Guilt.”

Going still, Angelo’s gut tingled. He hesitated, not sure now if he did want to proceed. There was only one reason he’d be carrying guilt, and it wasn’t something he was comfortable talking about.

But Corey might just be taking a stab in the dark. There were only so many identifiable emotions to choose from. “Okay,” Angelo said. “So you sensed guilt, and you think I want it there. Inside me. This guilt.”

Corey nodded. “Should I go on? You look a little pale right now.”

Taking a sip of water, Angelo paused.

“Angelo, you okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, facing Corey. “Yeah, I’m good. Okay, tell me more.”

Corey stared at him for a long time, then sighed, clasping his hands and resting his arms on his knees. “Did you...” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, brow furrowed in concentration, then he looked at Angelo again. “Did someone get hurt?”

Angelo’s eyes narrowed. “Hurt?”

“Someone close to you. Did they get hurt or possibly...die? And do you think it’s your fault?”

****

As soon as the words left Corey’s mouth, he regretted them, because Angelo turned away from him and doubled over, holding his gut. Breaths came from him in short, hard pants.

“Oh, shit,” Corey said. He moved to the couch and placed a hand on Angelo’s back. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Angelo nodded at the floor. He took in a huge breath and let it out. “Just...hard to breathe.”

“Here.” Corey placed a hand on the back of his neck. “Put your head between your knees and try to breathe slow, I’ll be right back.”

Corey darted to the linen closet and got a cloth, then ran it under cold water. Returning to the living room, he sat beside Angelo and placed the cloth on the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” Angelo said, but his voice sounded strained.

“Take it easy. A few deep breaths, okay?”

Angelo took in a breath, then let it out slowly.

“Again,” Corey said.

Another deep breath, and Angelo sat upright as he let it out, the cloth falling off. Corey picked it up and held it to his neck.

“I’m all right now,” Angelo said, still looking down. “That was just...shocking.”

“I’m sorry,” Corey said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I mean, I should have guessed that if something like that was accurate, it would upset you.”

Angelo’s head turned and he looked into Corey’s eyes. “I guess I did ask.”

Corey smiled. “Yeah. You did. You okay now, really?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

The eye-lock remained, and that tingling energy stole through Corey, making him want to lean in for a kiss. He stood quickly and moved to the other chair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Angelo leaned against the sofa back. “I only paid for a massage, not a therapy session. I’ve overstayed my welcome as it is. I’ll leave. Just...need a minute.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Angelo’s eyes shifted to Corey, some of the color returning to his face. “You sure?”

“Positive. And I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

“Freaked me out, yeah.” Angelo pointed at him. “You, Corey Stengel, are one fucked up ball of wax.”

“Okay. Not contesting that.”

Laughing, Angelo said, “It’s not an insult, just...damn. The little feelings I get when I’m working with a client aren’t
that
bang on. You sure you’re not psychic or something?”

“I don’t think so, no. Not exactly. So something like that did happen?” Corey didn’t want to press Angelo after making him hyperventilate and all, but hell, now he was curious as hell.

Drumming his fingers on his knees, Angelo nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can tell me if you want.”

Angelo remained silent.

“Do you want to?”

“I...” Angelo closed his eyes. “I kind of do. But I kind of don’t want you to think less of me.”

Wow
. Another confusing statement from Angelo Nardovino. Why would he care what Corey thought of him? They barely knew each other.

“Well,” Corey said. “It’s not like I’m any picture of perfection. How’s this. I got kicked out of medical school because my advisors thought I was unstable. I’ve lost two boyfriends this year. I cheated on one of them. The other, Zach, cheated on me. I get called an egomaniac all the time. A whore. An asshole. I can’t seem to maintain a healthy relationship, no matter how hard I try. And I’m convinced at this point in my life that some vengeful gods are out to get me, and that I’m never going to find happiness because I probably don’t deserve it.”

Angelo’s eyes widened.

“So in short, whatever you want to tell me, I won’t think less of you. I’ve got no business judging anyone.”

Angelo held Corey’s eyes for a long time, then finally he spoke. “When I was eighteen, I went to Marco Island with my whole family. All my brothers, the whole lot of us, got on a plane and went and stayed at this hotel. My parents liked to do these trips once a year, but that year, I thought I was too old for it, and bitched the whole time because I’d rather have stayed home and partied with my friends.”