Spokes (7 page)

Clothes were an imposition, but to push Luca away, even for the seconds it would take to strip him, was unthinkable. Not with his tongue in
Christopher's mouth, his arms like cables around Christopher's neck and waist. When Luca was ready to move on, Christopher would help,
but this need, this overwhelming need in Luca's every movement had to be answered. And if he was so damned hard it hurt, and trapped in a bad
position inside his shorts, he still wouldn't push Luca away even for a moment, because he was terrified Luca wouldn't come back. Too
erratic, insistent but tense, the man was a coiled spring who would shoot across the room if moved.

Luca drove against him, silently thrusting with all the strength that had propelled his bike more than a thousand miles this season alone. Trying to match
him without passing him, Christopher lifted his hips to the driving rhythm, closing his eyes under the assault of Luca's tongue, wet and
insistent, knowing Luca's heart was beating every bit as fast as his own. With his hand flat to Luca's back, Christopher could feel its
reggae beat knocking against ribs.

This couldn't last, not with the way Luca rubbed his cock against Christopher's, each stroke gradually shifting him to a better lie.
Damn but he wished he could get their jeans out of the way.

Luca froze, all but his thudding heart and his pulsing cock--Christopher froze with him, his own climax not yet urgent enough to keep him moving.
The smallest groan escaped Luca at last, a whimper almost. He slid down to his knees, bringing his head to rest on Christopher's chest.

Silently he begged Luca not to leave him like this--Luca had to know, just from his heartbeat, that Christopher hadn't come yet. He
tightened his grip in Luca's hair, just for an instant.
Let go, you promised not to push. But please...

Luca tipped his face up, meeting Christopher's eyes. Damn but the man was beautiful, his face the classic shape found on statues two thousand
years old, the ringlets falling behind his ears where Christopher stroked them, his mouth so close to Christopher's crotch that he
couldn't help thrusting slightly against Luca's chest. That brought the fear back into Luca's blue eyes--Christopher
stilled, cursing himself for an idiot. A wound up, horny, wanting-to-come idiot, who might end up with his own hand yet if he moved again.
"Sorry," he whispered.

"You need," Luca whispered back. "I touch you." But he didn't move, nor did his eyes lose their wariness.

"With your hand." Christopher found a few words that would give him release and take that look off Luca's face.
"Your hand will be wonderful." He drew Luca up to sit on the futon, one arm around him, one hand to hold Luca's. Nuzzling
into Luca's curls, he found himself begging, "But please, soon."

His shirt had come untucked in all the rubbing; Luca reached under the flapping tails to grasp Christopher's cock through the denim. Tentatively
he rubbed, growing bolder when Christopher did nothing more than moan softly. It was good, but not enough--Christopher tried not to thrust into
Luca's palm.

"Be still."

Obeying, feeling hands fumbling at his zipper, Christopher tried to be patient. Luca couldn't possibly be completely inexperienced, not after his
blushes at the table, but a jumpier partner was unimaginable. Making no sudden moves, Christopher lifted his hips enough to let Luca slide his clothing
down. Not very far--the elastic on his underwear stretched across the base of his cock.

Luca must have made up his mind. he snuggled into Christopher's side, his strong fingers wrapped around Christopher's cock in the same
grip he used for hours on the roads, pulling and sliding the skin over the shaft. "Not enough" was rapidly becoming
"plenty". Christopher buried his face into Luca's hair, the scent of his scalp better than any perfume. Gasping warm
mouthfuls of the intoxicant, Christopher wanted to push Luca over, climb on top and thrust until warm fountains pulsed between them. He stayed where he
was, letting Luca decide how much and how hard. "Soon" became "now:" Christopher could say only,
"Luca!" before the explosion took him, the warm fluid spurting from him in the waves of pleasure.

He sat gasping with Luca's hand around his slowly softening cock, catching his breath. Wetness reached his skin; his come had to have been
dripping down over Luca's hand. Poor guy must be getting kind of sticky in there, too. "Let's clean up."

With a small snort of laughter and the other hand cupped to catch the splats, Luca followed Christopher to the tiny bathroom. He rinsed off under the tap
Christopher opened for him, and then peeled down, rinsing the soggy underwear without an apparent care. The jeans had a small wet spot when he'd
taken them off, and a large soaked spot when he finished. Luca made a face and started to pull his wet clothing back on, his discomfort suddenly returning.
Christopher dragged his eyes away, but Luca's ass really was everything he'd been dreaming of.

"Wear something of mine." Christopher found a pair of basketball shorts on the back of the bathroom door.

Cleaning up, Luca had had the ease of a man used to casual nudity with the team, but that hadn't lasted. He dragged the shorts over his butt
without untying the drawstring. "Thank you." He stayed facing the mirror, head bowed, where Christopher could see but only dimly
understand the thoughts chasing across his face. "You must think I am..." He circled a finger toward his face.
"Crazy."

"No, Luca. I don't." Well, he had, but there was only one other thing that made sense, and it was a lot more likely. Turning
Luca to face him, Christopher stroked the backs of his fingers against Luca's cheek, the most intimate but unthreatening thing he could think of.
"I think someone's hurt you very badly."

Luca nodded, leaning into the hand Christopher turned to cup a cheek. "Maybe one day I tell you. Trust... hard to do. To be boyfriends?
I only know from movies, since... Never do, only sometimes, find someone for ten minutes, fifteen minutes. No names, no trust. No
dinners."

"Sounds lonely." Sounded hellish. "Luca, whatever he did, I don't want to do. Even if you decide not to go out with
me again, or if we don't last beyond when the team goes back to Europe for the racing season." Gathering Luca into his arms as if he
could protect the man from his past, Christopher murmured, "I don't ever want that look on your face because of me. On
anyone's face, because of me."

"I think I am right that you are good man," Luca mumbled into Christopher's neck. "And maybe, can coach me on
boyfriends?"

"We've been doing pretty good so far," Christopher mumbled back. "Boyfriends talk to each other and help each
other. It's not just kissing and sex."

"I talk all night, you listen. And kissing and sex, maybe not so good this first time."

"So tomorrow night we'll do it again and it will be my turn to talk." Christopher would take Luca out, though the small check
from the magazine wouldn't stretch to anything as lavish as what they'd shared tonight. "And this first time isn't
over yet, unless you have to leave." He squirmed a kiss through the curls onto Luca's forehead. "It was good,
just... frantic. Excited and fast," he clarified, just in case Luca didn't know the word. "We can keep going, only
slower." He led Luca back to the futon. "Just kiss me, real slow."

He opened his arms; Luca stepped within the embrace and demonstrated why he was a coach's dream, letting Christopher set the pace. With the first
rush of desire slaked, he could brush his tongue gently across Luca's lips, feel Luca match him. The soft nibbles and caresses they'd
been in too much of a rush for earlier were all they did now. The slight tang of the wine on Luca's breath didn't worry Christopher; it
had to be wearing off and he was still willing, eager. His hands traveled softly up and down Christopher's back, his fingers pressing the hollows
of spine and his palms the ridges of muscle.

Exploring Luca in return, Christopher stroked the light but strong layers covering Luca's back and shoulders, wishing he dared slide a hand under
the elastic waistband. That would be daring too much, but he did slip downward to cup one steely glute, his fingers curving around the delicious swell of
Luca's ass. Risking a soft squeeze, or two or three, he pulled Luca more tightly against his chest, until Luca sagged, bearing Christopher down
to the couch-shaped futon.

The treacherous were-furniture now decided its own personal full moon had arrived. The untrustworthy latch gave way. A screech and a thump later,
Christopher and Luca sprawled on what was now a mattress. Christopher fully expected Luca to leap to his feet.

"Sorry. I'll put it back up." His heart pounding an extra twenty beats per minute for fear Luca would panic, Christopher
tried to wiggle upright, but Luca didn't let go.

"I wished for bed. By magic bed is here." Far from fleeing, Luca twisted them until he lay atop Christopher, their feet dangling over
the edge, and started nibbling at Christopher's neck.

Oh, Lord, Luca was hard again, hard as Christopher, and his lips and tongue found Christopher's mouth again. So what if it felt like advancing
the humping; Christopher scooted them higher onto the futon. Offering his neck more completely, Christopher let those full lips find the ridges of muscle
that had to connect directly with his erection. He thrust back against Luca's insistent hips.

"Can I touch your skin?" he dared ask, his hands catching crinkles of cotton against Luca's back.

For answer, Luca sat up, straddling Christopher's groin, to strip his shirt away. With great deliberation, he unfastened Christopher's
buttons, sweeping the edges of shirt to each side, to run his hands over the exposed skin. Long strokes and tiny flicks at his partner's nipples
couldn't have been any party of Luca's hasty, trustless encounters. Christopher wanted to feel their explorations as if he were
Luca's first real lover, and pushed thoughts of barns and grapevines away. He concentrated on running his hands up and down Luca's
sides, learning the scars and finding the small patches of hair at his nipples and breastbone. When at last Luca lay against him, the heat of his skin was
a gift.

"We could be naked." Luca made the suggestion at last; Christopher would have come in his clothing before pushing Luca to strip, and
could only murmur his assent into the curls that tickled his nose.

Rising to stand over Christopher, Luca dragged the shorts down and paused a moment, nude, glorious, his erection jutting away from his body and bathed in
the weak light of the tiny lamp. The shadows traced upward, painting the ridges of Luca's abs with darkness. His face caught only traces of
light, but that had to be a smile.

"You're beautiful," Christopher breathed, afraid to reach out, just as he wouldn't touch a classical figure in a
museum. But this figure breathed and gazed down on him, so he lifted a hand to Luca's leg, smooth as the marble he resembled.
"Amazingly, fucking beautiful."

"I am skinny cyclist who chooses blind lover." Luca dropped to his knees, his hands at Christopher's fly. Shedding his
clothing seemed to take his inhibitions, too; Luca patted
up, up
on Christopher's hips to pull his jeans away.

"I see you just fine. You're perfect and I like looking at you." So what if Luca's upper body was thin; every pound
of muscle there was so much dead weight to haul up a
hors categorie
climb. Christopher was guiltily aware that he lifted weights
as much for showy musculature as for the endurance he needed, but Luca seemed happy, from the way his hands traveled up and down Christopher's
body, dancing lightly over every part, including his hard and leaking cock.

If Luca needed all night to decide what he was willing to do, he could have it, but he bent to lick at Christopher's tip, first with a tiny,
tentative flick, growing into a full-circled swipe and then engulfing him in an excruciatingly slow descent. Silence wasn't possible for this;
soft moans trickled from Christopher's throat and only seemed to urge Luca on.

Two could play at patting the other into position. Christopher coaxed Luca over him; that sweetly curved cock and heavy balls bobbed over his face. Luca
didn't miss a beat when Christopher started to nuzzle and explore, finding the soft prickle of clipped hairs at Luca's groin, and the
shaved smoothness of his inner thighs. At last he could get a double handful of that round, tight ass.

Lost in the warm musk and multitude of textures on one end and the wet heat of Luca's mouth and hands at the other, Christopher groped for a
better hold on Luca's butt.

Luca jerked his head up. "Not in!" He clutched the base of Christopher's cock too tightly, and relaxed only when Christopher
agreed.

"Not in, I understand." He didn't, not really, but he'd promised not to do anything Luca didn't want.
Early days yet, they had fallen into bed without really talking; he'd find out more once words were back on the agenda. Moving one hand to
Luca's cock and the other to caress his back, Christopher eased them back into what they'd been doing. Luca went back to stroking
slowly, his lips to Christopher's sack, maybe in case he needed to yell again. He wouldn't. Christopher was going to stick to the
things he'd already established were okay; he could do a lot with hands and mouth.

So could Luca. He sucked Christopher back in, swirling his tongue along the shaft, the ring of his fingers pushing a climax ever nearer.

"Almost there," Christopher gasped--he needed to let Luca pull away in time if he didn't want a mouthful. Guess he
didn't, but warm lips against Christopher's balls more than made up for the sudden chill. Fire rolled through him, the heat splashing
his belly with every pulse of his cock in Luca's firm grip, and he cried out against the granite thigh beside his head.

"Turn around," Christopher mumbled when speech was again possible. "Let me suck you."

That beautiful cock had been out of sucking range, curved toward Luca's stomach. Christopher couldn't have slid it into his mouth
without a severe backward bend, but now Luca knelt over him, leaning on the futon's armrest. Concentrating solely on his mouthful, Christopher
closed his eyes, feeling the slide of skin as he slid his lips over Luca's shaft, tasting the warm musk of his earlier exertions. Luca helped,
thrusting with surprising control and did not pull away from Christopher's hand on his haunch.