Winter's Gamble (2 page)

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Authors: Mechele Armstrong

Tags: #LGBT, #Contemporary

BOOK: Winter's Gamble
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So Devyn rectified that. He shifted his hips, rubbing his dick against those close digits, which Carl slowly unclenched, taking Devyn into his hand. Devyn’s dick found that erection that had been lacking while he’d been tucked. Thankfully, once things were untucked, his cock and balls sprang back into action without a problem, especially when Carl was around and helping him get undressed.

Carl’s eyes closed as Devyn shifted himself into Carl’s possession as much as he possibly could. “You sure about this?” His voice came out raspy and full of futile air. “You’re doing a job.”

Devyn wiggled his hips, prolonging the contact as much as he could. “I’m getting asked back. Besides, this won’t take long.” Not as horny as he found himself. It was like this after every show. Something about the adrenaline of the performance took over his libido. But it had never been more evident than now.

Carl moved his hands away from Devyn and turned away.

“What the fu—” Devyn stopped as the door lock clicked into place. Leave it to Carl to think beyond his dick. “Oh.”

Carl turned back toward him with a determined glint in his eyes. “Can’t have anyone interrupting.” His voice was matter-of-fact and concise, just like him. He slipped his hand down and cupped Devyn with a firm grasp.

“Fuck, no. Can’t have any interrupting.” He wiggled his hips so that his rigid dick bucked against Carl’s hand.

Carl ran his hand up and down Devyn’s length, going from tip to base. He moved his hand underneath Devyn and gently massaged his balls.

Devyn made a sound, which probably sounded suspiciously like a cat, either in heat or wanting some kitty pussy.

Carl quickly did the same again, pressing his fingers into the slit at the end, playing in the wetness. He moved his hand up and down Devyn’s full rod with increasing speed.

Devyn widened his stance, trying not to fall on his ass in the middle of the dresses on the dressing room floor. He moved his body to give Carl better access before yanking the gown up and over his head. Damn thing was getting in the way.

Carl moved closer and kissed him.

Before Devyn knew what was happening, the bra that held his fake tits was loose and hanging from him. Devyn moved his hands up slowly to catch it and drop it gently to the floor. “You know your way around a bra.” Carl was flawless. Always had been. He’d have been a woman’s dream.

Carl chuckled. “The backseat of my car, before I realized I was gay, was quite busy.”

Carl had been late to the party. He’d known he was different but had tried to deny what he was for many years. Until he’d moved into his thirties and realized he hadn’t loved the girl he was with, he was using her as a safety net for his real affections. Men. He’d come clean, broken up with the woman, and soon after had met Devyn. That had been nine years ago. He’d never looked back at being hetero. Though the guys he worked with in the restaurant every day would be shocked at who he took to bed every night. A mixed-race drag queen in a Southern state in the United States? Yeah, they’d never give him peace about his choices.

Devyn had been out the closet since he’d dressed in his sister’s dresses, fake heels, and feather boas as a five-year-old. His talent had been singing, which had taken him more places than he’d ever expected. Like here. But his defiance to conformity had been what had garnered him Carl. After being in seclusion for so long, Carl appreciated Devyn’s openness to what he was, a damn talented queer queen with a voice that could raise the rooftops. Even if humbleness wasn’t a trait that Devyn had.

Carl slowly put his hands back on Devyn with careful, gentle stroking. Treated Devyn like he was precious.

Only that wouldn’t get the job done. Not by a long shot. And they didn’t have much time.

Carl’s voice shocked Devyn before he could even speak. “You’re thinking
you
could do this.”

It was true. Any man could give himself a handjob. It was the other stuff that was hard for one person to do to himself. “Yeah.”

Carl moved his hand up to fondle Devyn’s ass cheek before clenching him tighter against Carl’s body. His other hand didn’t move from Devyn’s dick. “I don’t get on my knees for anyone.” His voice had a wildness to it that Devyn rarely heard.

Maybe he liked tempting the fates too, just as Devyn did. “I know.”

Carl removed his hand and lowered himself to his knees. As he mentioned, he didn’t do this often, not only because usually they’d be in bed. He wasn’t one to go down on Devyn.

Devyn watched as Carl seemed to go in slow motion, moving his head up so that his mouth was positioned just so in front of Devyn’s dick. He watched as the man moved his lips slowly toward his throbbing flesh.

Too fucking leisurely.

Carl’s eyes twinkled as he looked up at Devyn. “Problem?”

“Not if you’d move your fucking head an inch forward.” Carl’s mouth locked around Devyn’s dick as the last word escaped his mouth.

His voice was strangely muffled as he spoke around Devyn’s dick. “Your wish is my command.”

Yeah, right. Not usually. But maybe today. Devyn leaned his head back, getting his purchase on the floor. Last thing he wanted to do was have his knees buckle and send him to the ground. With his luck, he’d break something. That would be an explanation to the emergency crew he didn’t want to make.

He shivered as he closed his eyes from the blinding fluorescent lights and tried to shut out the pumping music from the bar outside that door.

Reality.

It often camped outside for them.

But this was the thing he wanted to concentrate on and experience. Moments like this. Other than when he was onstage, this was him at his best.

Carl slipped his hand around him to treasure his aching balls. He was gentle, far gentler than usual because he knew the way they’d been worn.

He petted Devyn’s dick with his tongue, licking and basting him all the way up his extended length.

Bliss.

Faster and with more suction than Devyn thought possible, Carl moved his mouth up and down and then back to the root, taking in as much of Devyn’s dick as he possibly could. He deep throated Devyn, causing multitiered sensations to rocket around Devyn in an instant.

He flamed up, feeling heat all over his body.

Carl slightly squeezed his balls harder than he had been, but not bringing Devyn pain, only an intense pleasure that made his lungs draw up a breath.

The rhythm, the mix of the music combined with Carl’s motions, to make a waving ride of desire deep within Devyn. One more move down, and the crescendo rolled across Devyn with a smashing brilliance.

He shot a load of come into Carl’s sucking mouth.

Carl moved away and dropped a kiss on the tip of Devyn’s now flaccid dick, making him jump and exhale.

Devyn opened his eyes. “Tonight, you’ll get yours.”

Carl’s smile was quick and knowing. “I know.”

A tentative knock sounded. “Rose? Everything okay? You’ve been in there awhile.”

And he’d stay in even longer if he could. “Fine. We’ll be out to the bar to discuss in a second.”

“I also wanted to talk to you about performing at a gay marriage rally. As Rose, of course. But we can talk when you come out.”

Carl’s face pinched up. He would never approve of that, but as Devyn had been advocating for a while now for them to get married, he would do the rally. They just wouldn’t talk about it, or it would lead to an argument. “Let’s finish up.”

Carl got to his feet. “No rest for the wicked.”

“So that’s why I’m always tired.” Devyn reached around and took off the evening dress. Time to finish turning back into him.

Chapter Two

Carl chopped up celery, taking care to make the pieces even. They didn’t cook well if they were different sizes. Something that Devyn had never been able to grasp. He couldn’t help a chuckle, thinking about some of Devyn’s more memorable kitchen disasters. Granted, sometimes after playing chef all day, the last thing Carl wanted to do was cook. Devyn knew that and tried to do the cooking when he could. It didn’t always go that well. Devyn didn’t have the attention span or the orderliness to be successful at food preparation. He had the creativity, but it tended to come out in ways that made no sense with the science of making a dish. Gray pancakes had been one such disaster. He’d tried to mix colors, and it hadn’t gone well.

Devyn walked into the tiny kitchen with a towel draped around his neck. His smooth body shone with wetness from his shower. His body was a work of art. His abs trailed down to underneath the faded jeans he’d put on. His bare feet made scuff sounds on the floor. He was more lickable than anything in the kitchen, causing Carl to harden and his stomach muscles to clench. He’d wanted so much today in the dressing room, but they’d pushed things further than they should as it was. “How’s it coming?”

Carl had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“Dinner, pervert.” Devyn scooped up a piece of celery and munched it. He always liked to steal whenever Carl cut vegetables.

“I’m about ready to put in the dressing.” Even though they were tired, they’d decided on a turkey breast and a few trimmings. Thanksgiving wasn’t for another six months, and they both loved turkey. After a stressful weekend, they’d gone the comfort-food route.

“Gotta cook for a while?”

“Yeah, at least an hour. Same with the breast. I guess maybe it wasn’t a good idea.” But it had sure sounded good.

“Breast never is.” Devyn waggled his brows. “Not for us anyway.”

Carl shrugged. He’d tried being hetero. But it had never worked. He was what he was. And thankfully he’d accepted that before he met Ms. Rose Winter. Because Devyn would have accepted nothing less, and Carl couldn’t imagine not being with him. They’d only had one issue. Despite the fact it wasn’t and never would be legal in the state where they lived, Devyn wanted to get married. If it wasn’t legal, Carl didn’t see the point. Nor did he want to go about the hassle. And yes, he still believed marriage was a heterosexual convention that wasn’t for him. Maybe that made him strange. But it was the way he felt.

“So why don’t we have some red wine in the living room?” Devyn went to the wine cooler and pulled out a bottle.

“Did you put that—”

“When we got home.”

He was good, except… “Shouldn’t red wines be served room temperature?” Carl reached above his head and took down two wine goblets.

“This is a fruitier one than we usually get. Should be slightly chilled.” Devyn uncorked the bottle and headed for the living room.

“Ah.” Carl followed behind him and let his gaze drift down to Devyn’s ass. His ass was wonderful. His low-slung jeans showed off his butt admirably. The globes of his sculpted muscles strained under the denim.

Devyn sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “Join me.” He gazed up at Carl with a look inside his hazel irises that took Carl’s breath away.

Devyn had something in mind. Something mischievous. Something that Carl would like. He usually did.

He sat down and set one of the goblets on the wooden coffee table. He held the other one out to Devyn, who poured the wine without sloshing or spilling it.

Better than Carl would have done. He might be a whiz in the kitchen, but in social situations he was often awkward. Something Devyn never was. Maybe that was another reason he didn’t want to do a wedding. He’d probably fuck it up. Make Devyn mad at him. He didn’t understand why their private commitment wasn’t enough for Devyn. But it didn’t seem to be. Devyn had become more and more vocal on the subject. Maybe because Devyn and he were getting older. Carl only hoped it didn’t come to a showdown over that issue.

Could he lose Devyn over this?

Pushing aside his thoughts, he set down the full glass on a coaster and picked up the other one, proffering it to Devyn to fill. No spill a second time.

Devyn set the bottle down on the coffee table and picked up one of the goblets. “Tonight we celebrate. Rose, that bitch, did it again.”

Carl smiled and held out his glass to tink against Devyn’s. “Yes, she did.”

Vic had wanted to book Rose for several engagements, including the gay marriage rally. That rally would probably wind up in the papers. That wouldn’t look good for Carl, because he’d be mentioned, and he tried to keep his love life on the down low, but he wouldn’t say anything. Those bookings combined with the ones he already had would make Devyn one busy Rose.

“I’m thinking Rose can do anything.”

Carl nodded. “Yes, she can. Because you can.” It was what had attracted Carl to Devyn in the first place nine years ago. What he wanted, he went for and determinedly got. It was a wonder Carl hadn’t given in on marrying him. What was his problem with it, anyway? Oh right, that they were gay, and weddings should involve a man and woman. Call him a traditionalist, but he couldn’t get past that.
If you don’t want to lose Devyn, you may have to concede on marriage one day.
That was a reality. But one he didn’t have to face now. He’d work harder on his hang-ups.

Devyn’s eyes shimmered over the glass he held up to his nose. “So you wanna do me? While dinner’s cooking?”

Carl sipped the wine again. “You know the answer to that.”

“Do I?” Devyn tried to look innocent and failed miserably. “Do I know what you want?”

“Yes.”
Always.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want to do to me.” Devyn’s voice dipped low and coarse. He took a sip of his wine and waited, bringing his foot out from under him to tap impatiently.

“I…I want to fuck you.”

“Your wish is my command.” Devyn set the glass down by the bottle and slowly maneuvered toward Carl with moves like a slippery snake. He leaned over to draw in his lover’s scent.

Carl couldn’t help but shiver. It was a reaction he’d had ever since he’d met the man, after all.

“I love I can still make you do that. With just an inhale.” Devyn moved his hand over Carl’s cheekbone, causing a similar acknowledgment. He had high cheekbones. Devyn had asked if he was Native American when they’d first met. He’d laughed and said, “What part of this fair skin looks Native?”

“What are you then? Svedish?” Devyn had bitten his lip between his teeth, and Carl had shivered, like he had a moment ago.

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