Knight of Ocean Avenue (4 page)

He leaned back in the chair and sipped. Was it Annie that was bugging him? The shit she said? That sex with him was fine,
but
— Her dog was a cutie but she didn’t have sex with him. It just kept coming down to the sex. And the love.
Do I love Annie? What does love even feel like?
He liked her fine. He snorted. Yeah, fine. Truth was, sex with her hadn’t been that great.

When did they last do the nasty
? Maybe a week ago, because she’d made a thing of it saying how it had been a month since they did it.
Shit
. He’d tried to tell her how tired he was, but he wasn’t that old. Shouldn’t he want it all the time like other guys?

He took a sip of beer. It tasted bitter, and he got up and spit it in the sink.

Actually, he did want it, just not with her. That night had been crappy. Him trying to stay hard while he shoved it in her and her rubbing herself on him trying to get off and finally climbing on top and fucking him until she came. It had been embarrassing. He pretended, but he never did really get off. She was right. Their sex had been shit. Why hadn’t he seen it?

Because you don’t want to.

Three strides took him to the end of the open kitchen and into the living room. He stopped, turned back, grabbed the laptop, and carried it to the couch. He didn’t need her for sex.

With a few clicks, he found his porn stash. Every guy had one, right? The furboys sauntered through the living room and jumped onto their favorite chair. With much paw licking, they settled into a ball of orange and black, like perpetual Halloween. Shit, those cats had to be gay. There was a lot more than buddy love going on between those two.

Okay, down
to it.
He scrolled through the short list of options.
Blow jobs. Yeah. Big cocks. That’s a good one.
He clicked.

It started in the middle where he’d left off last time. The porn star’s huge cock was driving into the woman’s pussy. Over and over.
Look at that dick. Jesus.
What would it feel like to have something that size ramming in you? Probably hurt like hell
. His own cock was close to that length and girth. Women never complained, but did he hurt them? He shivered.

At least he felt his own dick starting to perk up.
Good
. Because the sex he’d had with Annie wasn’t fine. Not even near fine.

He stopped the big cocks video and switched over to the blow job. The spot he started showed two women doing the guy. One was sucking and the other licking his balls. Yeah, he knew about blow jobs. He closed his eyes.
That time had been epic. Sure, it made sense. You want a blow job, you have to go to an expert. Men know about giving head
. He shifted in his seat.
Shit, that guy’s mouth. Like a very expensive vacuum cleaner, those red lips had sucked the juice out of him until he nearly blacked out. Damn. Yes.
He shouldn’t think about it, but he’d had so little great head to compare it to. Hard to forget.

Okay. He’d been good for so long. But this time. One more time. Just so he could get off.

Propping the computer on the cushion, he opened his eyes, leaned back, and pulled his half-hard cock from the sweats. With his other hand, he dragged the lube from the back of the end table drawer.

Nothing wrong with it.

He started the last video on the list, the one he’d been avoiding for months, and then with slick hands he began stroking his dick hard. It wouldn’t be long. He shouldn’t watch it, but who did it hurt? Shit, he didn’t even have a girlfriend anymore. This was his dick, wasn’t it? His tight grip strangled his penis.

He stared at the screen.
God, yes
. His hands moved faster and faster.

His breath came so hard it hurt his chest and his hips pumped up and down and up and down, forcing his cock through his tight palms.
Oh yeah, man. Yes. Finally. Yes.
Heat bubbled in his balls like a long-dead volcano. His eyes tried to close, but he didn’t want to stop watching.

Yeah. There. Almost there.

“Ahhhh!” Spunk shot out of his spike-hard cock as he came into his hands with his eyes fixed on the picture of the big, dark-haired cowboy fucking the ass of the pretty little redheaded guy.

G
AGA
’
S
“E
DGE
of Glory” played in his ear.
Damn. Quit
.

He reached out and pawed at the edge of the coffee table until he finally felt the phone. His fingers found the mute button and he clicked it.
Peace
. He tried to roll over.
Heavy
.

“Merwaorwr.”

“Mewr.”

Claws dug into his chest as the weight lifted, then disappeared. “Go back to sleep.” He rolled over until his face and body were pressed against the back of the couch.
Ouch
. His dick hurt.
Sleep. Ouch.

Well, damn
. Slowly he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He glanced to the side. Clancy and Yerby gazed at him like they could command him with will force alone to open the tuna. “Hang in there, guys.”

Oh man. Not hung over.
He’d had half a beer. But here he lay fully clothed on his couch, aching in his bones and feeling like someone had kicked him in the nuts. That would be him. He’d done it to himself.

He swung his legs over the side, sat up on the edge of the couch, and dropped his head. Four eyes stared up at him. “Go open it yourself.”

Three times. He’d wanked himself into oblivion three times while rewinding that frigging porno. Was there one line he didn’t engrave in his brain? Every “unh, unh, unh. Fuck me harder” was emblazoned in his memory.
Jesus, Ballew
. Yeah, Jesus was the operative word. But if he was going to hell for jerking off, he’d be taking every male in the world with him.

Of course, he didn’t just masturbate; he wanked to gay porn.
What the hell is that about?
Truth? He’d been kicked in the teeth so many times by so many women, the idea of fucking a nice uncomplicated man kind of did it for him. Well, not seriously, but the theory was attractive. And no, he would not be sharing this revelation with the guys on the job site.

The bang on his door about sent him into outer space.
Who the hell?
Nobody came here. He didn’t share his address much. No poker with the boys or make-out sessions with the girls.
His place. His
. Who was it?

The knocking came again.

Shit!

He jumped up. “Yeah?” The cats looked up at his loud voice.

“Billy, it’s Jim.” The voice came through the door.

Jim. Billy looked around, grabbed the laptop, closed it tight, and slid it onto the end table.
Lube. Shit
. He shoved the open tube into the drawer, then staggered over to the front door. How much did he smell like sex? Damn, his sweats were halfway to his knees. He dragged them back up, then opened the door. “Hi. Sorry, overslept.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Jim Carney was a little older than him and a good guy, if a bit of a hound dog. He grinned. “Sorry. My truck broke down. I was kind of close to here and remembered your address. Thought I’d see if I could get a ride.”

“Uh, sure.” He glanced over his shoulder. It felt strange having somebody here. “Come on in. I need to feed my cats and take a quick shower, if you want to wait.”

“Sure. Too far to walk and all uphill.” He stepped in. “You have cats?”

Billy looked at Jim. The guy had a tough face with a broken nose that some women liked. “Yeah, I got two. You like cats?”

“No. Just think it’s kind of funny that you do.” He smacked Billy’s shoulder. “You crazy cat lady, you.”

Well, hell.
“Make yourself at home.”
Kind of
. He walked into the kitchen, the boys behind him, and scooped out some cat food into both dishes. “Here ya go, guys.” He raised his voice. “Don’t let feline haters make you feel bad.”

Jim laughed from the living room. “This is quite a place you have. Jesus, man, what are you, some closet decorator?”

Billy frowned and walked into the living room. “No, I just like having a nice place of my own.”

“But you’re so damned neat.” He was holding a glass globe Billy had found in a yard sale.

“So?” He took the globe and put it back on the shelf.

“Nothing. No wonder women like you so much.”

“I’m taking a quick shower.” He started for the bedroom, stopped and grabbed the laptop, then went into his room—small with a big bed.

He glanced at his watch, still ticking on his wrist.
Double shit
. If he didn’t hurry, they’d both be late for work. Saturday shifts were good for making extra cash, but not if he didn’t get there.

He stepped under the water. Too cold. Shaved so fast he nicked himself and finally got some clothes on and hurried back into the living room. Jim sat on the couch holding a book, the two cats staring at him from across the room. He stared back. Billy laughed. “Have they got you cornered?”

“Shit, man, those two are scary. What are they, ninja attack cats?”

Billy sat and pulled on his work boots. He nodded at the book. “What you got?”

Jim held out the book. “This is heavy shit, my man.” The copy of
Jane Eyre
kind of weighed down his hand.

Billy tried to keep his brows from scrunching together. “I just like to read. I didn’t get to go to school too long, so I read, okay?” He didn’t say he read because it was like a fucking gift to finally be able to do it.

Jim set down the book and stood up. “You really are different, you know?”

“Thanks a shitload.”

“I don’t mean it bad. You’re just—not like most of the guys.”

Man, was he tired of hearing that.

He didn’t kneel to say good-bye to the boys because that for sure would be too different. Hopefully they wouldn’t pee on the bed in retribution. Driving like a maniac, he got to the job site at three minutes before seven, and Jim went to complete electrical while Billy supervised the kitchen installation.

An hour and a half later, he hammered the last of the cabinet frame and stood back. The nearly finished remodel of the three-story house in Laguna rose around him.

“Billy, heads up.”

He raised a hand and caught the flying metal tape measure. “Thanks, Charlie.” With a pull, he stretched the tape across the opening between cabinets. “Told ya. Right on the money. The refrigerator should fit unless somebody screwed up the appliance specs.”

Raoul, who was finishing the drywall on the other side of the new kitchen beside Jim, leaned down. “Hey, Billy man, why do you work for somebody else, man? Why don’t you get your contractor’s license and do your own thing, man? I’d work for you.”

Charlie, one of the finish carpenters, put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Touchy subject.”

Jeez
. His failings were so well known. “I’m just not much for school, ya know?” He shrugged and grinned, but it hurt all the way through his chest. “I’m too dumb to study.”

Raoul shrugged. “Seem smart to me, man.”

“You motherfuckers just make me look brilliant, that’s all.” He forced a laugh and went into the great room to supervise the drywall crew working in there.

“Yo, Ballew.”

Billy looked up. Jim was climbing another ladder toward the open-beam ceiling. “Yo, Carney.”

“Me and some of the guys are goin’ out for beers after work. They’re gonna take me home after so you don’t have to drive me. Wanna come for a drink?”

“Can’t. Got Little League practice.”

Hans, one of the drywallers, yelled, “Can’t qualify for the big leagues, huh, Ballew?”

Billy flashed his middle finger.

Jim laughed. “When you finish your community service, come on over. We’ll still be at it. At the Bay. You know us.”

Yeah, he did. He loved these guys, but hanging out with them felt weird. He didn’t even know why. “Sorry, I’m busy later.”

“Got a hot date?”

The heat rose up his neck. “No, nothing like that.”
Make something up
. “Just some family stuff. That fucking wedding.”

Hans stuck a hand on his hip, which looked funny on the top of a ladder. “Hell, Billy, big handsome stud like you. If it was me, I’d have a different babe every night.”

“Yeah, well, I do okay.”
Shit, that was such a lie
. “I met a cute girl last night with a rack the size of Utah. Think I may go back for seconds.” He waggled his eyebrows, which made the guys laugh. He knew how to play the game. Yeah, and he hated it. He turned and walked back into the kitchen where, ironically, there was less heat.

He looked around at the guys on the subcontractor crews. Big guys and small, old and young, every ethnicity. Not one of them would ever believe he was a dud with women. The L stamped on his forehead was also the size of Utah.