Indulgence (270 page)

When the buzzer sounded, signaling someone on the ground
floor of his building wanting in, he jerked awake, disoriented. He groaned and
got up, every single bone, muscle, and sinew on fire with pain from a hard
workout. Figuring it was Nicco, half glad and still half mad at him for proving
such a stubborn asshole, Parker hit the entry button, then poured a huge glass
of water while he waited.

Smiling when the doorbell sounded, he opened the door,
something appropriately sexy and inviting on his lips. The sight of the tall,
dark and angry looking Terrance made the smile fade. “Can I help you?” he
asked, tugging a shirt down over his bare torso when he realized it was not
Nicco on the other side of the door.

“No, but I’m going to help you,” the suave-looking man said,
keeping his distance outside the door.

Parker glared at him, crossed his arms, and said nothing.
Terrance smiled, his teeth shining in stark contrast to the deep mocha hue of
his face. “Oh…you are cute. I can see why Nicco would be smitten by you.” He
leaned on the doorjamb, loose-limbed, comfortable in a way Parker envied.

“I don’t need your help,” he said, his hand on the door,
ready to slam it shut.

“Well, we’ll call this an information session then. I’ll
tell you what I think you should know about your new boyfriend. And then you
can decide what you do with it. How about it?”

Parker scoffed. “Beat it, Terry. I’m good. Nicco’s good.
We’re together. That’s all you need to know.” Although, of course, they were
not together, and had not even exchanged a text message for days. He set his
face in calm lines, trying to exude a “take your jealous shit out of my house”
vibe.

“Hmm….” The other man smirked. Parker tried hard not to slam
the door in his face. The deafening silence from Nicco in the last few days had
never sounded so loud. “Not sure you realize this but,” he looked down at his
hands as if ashamed of what he was about to say, “Nicolas Garza is a sex
addict.”

Parker blinked. It sounded like something you might toss out
as a joke, a half-compliment…or something painfully obvious.

His own recently neglected skin, so eager for Nicco’s,
burned with memory. “Yeah. And?”

“I mean, adorable little former virgin, he has a problem, a
sickness. He has to get off nearly constantly and typically doesn’t care how,
or with whom, as long as he can come—over and over again. Surely you’ve noticed
his…insatiability…you know, on your little vacations.”

Parker shifted, nervous and angry at this asshole standing
at his door, making him feel dirty, like a used condom. Defensiveness obvious
in his voice, he replied, “Yeah. I did. I liked it. You can go now.” But,
unbidden, a fleeting memory shot across his brain. They’d gone to plenty of
nightclubs, some hetero, several not. And a trip to one in Paris had resulted
in their first legit argument.

Parker hadn’t liked the way Nicco’s eyes raked the room,
scanning it constantly. Then how they’d narrow, darken as he found an
attractive woman—and the place had no shortage of them. The woman would almost
always be staring back at him with clear invitation shining in her eyes.
Ironically, however, the argument had ensued because Parker got dragged into a
scrum of ladies on the dance floor while Nicco sipped and watched, his gaze
intent.

“So,” Nicco had asked as they walked to their hotel in the
wee hours, sweat drying on their skin, “you want to give it a try?”

Parker had stopped, put a hand on Nicco’s arm, not sure what
the guy meant but too tired and drunk to give a smart answer regardless. “What
the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, sexy American boyfriend,” Nicco had grinned and
pulled Parker into an embrace. “I can arrange a little group fun, with some
members of the fairer sex for company. If you like.” Parker recalled grinning
at the sensation of his lover’s erection pressing against him, making his own
body respond in kind. His lips had been soft, whispering near Parker’s ear. The
Paris night had been warm and full of promise. He’d bitten Parker’s earlobe
then released him, stepping back with a confusing, angry look on his face.

Parker shook his head, remembering the whole bizarre scene.
He’d said no, no thanks. Not interested in sharing you. Nicco had remained
sullen the rest of the walk back. By the time they hit the hotel door, Parker’s
alcohol fueled fury had bubbled over.

“I mean, I guess
you
want it though, right? I’m not
enough for you? You couldn’t take your eyes off all the pussy in the room.
Think I didn’t notice?”

Nicco had made a growling sound, grabbed Parker and shoved
him up against the wall of the hotel room, his huge hand on Parker’s pulsing
throat. His palm had moved lower as he spoke. “You are all I want. Ever.” Then
he’d pressed a mind-blowing kiss to Parker’s lips. Parker had yanked away,
holding Nicco’s still cloudy-looking face in his hands.

“Don’t lie to me, Nicolas. That is one thing I will not
tolerate.”

Nicco had looked down, then let go of him and walked toward
the bathroom. He turned back, pinning Parker with a gaze full of remorse and
unhappiness. Parker still leaned against the wall, his body prepared for a nice
hard fuck, thanks to Nicco’s flipping of his switches once again.

“I won’t lie to you, Parker,” he’d said. “But I warned you.
I told you I would be no good for you. Maybe you should have listened.” He’d
shut the bathroom door behind him leaving Parker to his thoughts.

So now, staring at Terrance, absorbing his words, he
blinked. The other man’s smile widened. “Ah, yes, I see you understand me now.
Beware, young Mr. Rollings. Nicolas Garza is never, ever satisfied with just
one person for very long. He has no control over himself and never will. Just
ask his wife, or me, or any number of people he’s fucked and dropped.”

Nicco sat staring at the therapist, heart pounding with
desperation. The stubborn days since parting ways with Parker after the long
vacation had stretched into infuriating weeks and now two lonely months had
passed without any communication between them.

During which Nicco had experienced what anyone would
consider a total relapse. The months he’d spent working on his inner demons,
finding other things to distract him so he wouldn’t seek out random and
meaningless sex faded as if they’d never happened. Both he and the psychologist
agreed having the physical outlet of the grueling season did help. So he'd
rewarded himself with the resort trip. The one where he’d finally met up with
the man he loved.

Then, after the the amazing discovery at La Luna, they'd
spent weeks fucking each other's brains out here, and on their European trip. A
blur of non-stop sex bordering on marathon-level as Parker discovered what he
liked and didn’t like, and Nicco processed just how much the kid meant to him.

Since it was the off-season they weren’t required to show up
at the Black Jacks’ training center as often, but Nicco found himself there
every day, pushing his body harder and harder as he came to terms with the fact
that he had, indeed found love once more. And how much the admission terrified
him beyond imagining.

Almost everything about Parker Rollings charmed, amused,
impressed him—and the things that did not, turned him into a raging horndog,
harkening back to his much younger days. He’d even had a tough time keeping his
hands off his new lover in public. So he’d concocted the long vacation, filled
with opportunities for sightseeing, long beach walks, and exotic candlelit
dinners for Parker, who’d never before ventured off American soil.

He had somehow ruined it, leading to the blow-off in the
taxi, and the weeks of silence that now had a life of their own. While part of
him understood and in a way didn’t blame Parker, he still ached from loss.
Although he had certainly brought it on, forcing himself to remain emotionally
aloof in order to protect what remained of his heart.

Damn psychologist had made him own that as well. The past
weeks working with Josh the shrink had convinced him one could possibly be
too
self-aware. Part of him longed for the good old days—the who-gives-a-shit,
utterly non-introspective, completely selfish Nicco. The one who could barely
spend more than thirty minutes alone.

“I think you need to acknowledge that you have no intention
of ruining anyone, Nicolas,” the man was saying. “Give yourself some credit.
You said you loved him. I believe you. You told me you’ve only ever loved one
other person, and you know how it feels. Is it fair to Parker to just drop him
now using excuses even you don’t believe?”

Nicco scowled. He hated these fucking sessions. Even though
he had increased them to twice a week now and had even stayed in contact with
the doc while on vacation because the intensity of his feelings for Parker
frightened him so much.

He leaned forward, his need to shock Josh, to make even him
give up on Nicco the bad, the naughty, the never-with-anyone-very-long, taking
over. “Do you want to know what I’ve done these last few nights, Josh? Hmm?”
Josh, who’d become a lifeline for him, whom he relied on and hated in equal
measure, merely raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so after the first night after Parker
more or less dumped me in the taxi home from the airport, I pouted and got
stinking drunk by myself. Then I waited for him to get over himself and call
me. Now, nearly two months after he told me he needed time “to think”, I give
up. So for the last week or maybe even two, I don’t remember, I’ve gone out and
picked up random women and fucked them, usually in public, in alleys, in back
hallways, and once on the hood of my car. Oh,” he held up a finger as if
remembering something good. “And then last night, I went to a gay club and
spent the whole time in the back rooms. You know.” He raised his own eyebrow at
the young man whose facial expression had not changed. “So I’m good. I’m over
him. Nicco is back to normal. Parker is safe from my influence.”

“Do you get tested regularly, Nicolas?” The psychologist’s
low, deadly serious voice made him flinch. “Because I’m guessing you don’t always
remember protection. It’s a fairly classic symptom of personalities like
yours.”

“I….” Nicco ran a hand down his face, suddenly weary beyond
belief. Josh had never been so direct. “Yes, I go every six weeks. And I’m
clean of all the usual stuff, including the big one. Thanks for asking. And for
the record, I use condoms.”

“Okay then. Now let’s talk about Parker.”

“I don’t want to.” He felt like a pouty little boy not
getting his way. He wanted Parker back in his arms so badly it made every inch
of his skin burn. He couldn’t sleep, had no appetite, and had indeed been
pulling some old-Nicco bullshit with random women and did get into an orgy in
the back room of a gay bar. Getting off without gaining a single measure of
satisfaction—Nicco’s mojo had returned.

“You need to. Because he is probably going to want an
explanation about this.” Josh turned his laptop around so the screen faced him.

Nicco frowned as his brain processed the collection of
images there into something he tried to understand. He, Nicco, seemed to be a
fairly serious-looking clench with a woman, one of the many from these past
weeks. Forgettable as they all were, as they always were.

He sought something. He’d found it once with Leandro. And
then at the resort he’d found it again. But his love had rejected him. With
good reason since Nicco had spent their entire vacation not-so-subtly forcing
him away.

He knew damn good and well what Parker required from him—his
heart. Nicco didn’t think he could give it. “Well, it’s not his business anymore,
I guess. He’s the one who wanted ‘space to think.’” Nicco hooked his fingers
around the words, rolling his eyes. His heart pounded and his mouth stayed bone
dry.

“You need to talk to him. Take the initiative. Call him.
Sitting around waiting for him to call you is making you fall back into bad
habits. After all the progress we’ve made, it seems pretty damn
counter-productive.” He glared at Nicco, his eyes dark and intense. “What do
you want, Nicolas, really? Have you ever once answered that question in your
own mind? Because I am pretty sure it is not random hookups.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be supportive of me, young Josh? Not
bossy?” Nicco looked away. “I mean I’m no expert in this head-shrinkage thing
but…”

“I’m supposed to be the one you can turn to when you need to
talk. But I am allowed to ask questions. What do you want, Nicco?”

Nicco jumped up, shoving his seat back. “I don’t fucking
know, don’t you get it?” He leaned over Josh’s desk. The kid just sat there,
implacable, and annoyingly calm.

“I think you do. If the conversations we had while you were
on vacation were any indication.”

Nicco made an exasperated noise and stomped out. He’d left a
lot of sessions like this, he mused, as he made his way down to the locker
room. He needed to run, to kick, to bash into people. He was practically
crawling out of his skin. Leaning his head against the wooden door of his
locker he let himself have it—the longing, the raw, true emotion he’d been
fighting for months now.

“Call him,” Josh’s voice floated through his brain. “Take
the initiative.”

He stared at his phone for a full minute. Then tossed it
back into the locker. He pulled on shorts, shirt, socks, and cleats and grabbed
a bag of balls from the equipment room. Action, movement, physicality, that was
what he required right fucking now.

Parker sat across from his coaches, his pulse racing. He’d
called this meeting to warn them he wanted a transfer, for personal reasons.
The sight of them made him pause. They represented something he truly didn’t
want to leave behind. It made him even more furious with Nicco for putting him
in this position. He closed his eyes against the onrush of sensation—the ugly
chest-crushing jealousy taking up residence once more.