When I got back to my hotel room, Darren was already there. “Jesus, man. This is the first time you’ve ever been out later than me. She must have been good.”
She.
But I hadn’t had anyone. I’d never had anyone I desired the way I’d wanted Weston. “Yeah,” I lied. “Really fucking good. I need to shower.”
I grabbed my bag and locked myself in the bathroom. When I was naked, water running down my back, I took my cock in hand and stroked hard and fast, Weston behind my closed eyelids and his voice in my head. I came quietly, whispering his name just for me.
Chapter Four
Weston
I woke up thinking about the pretty guy with the chocolate eyes. His brown hair was cut short, styled so it stuck up slightly in front. He’d had a lightly stubbled goatee, not a full beard the way my scruff grew, and the sexiest damn lips I’d ever seen—plump and perfectly bow-shaped. Anson. For whatever reason, he fascinated me. He was beautiful, of course, that much had been obvious, but he was also intriguing. I enjoyed talking to him in ways I hadn’t with anyone in a long time. He’d blushed nearly every time I looked at him, but I didn’t think he knew it. When he hadn’t thought I was paying attention, he’d watched me. I’d jacked off last night, coming twice with his name on my lips, but now I just felt heavy with melancholy.
Whoever Anson was, I’d never see him again, and even if I did, he was lost in the same closet I swore I’d never let myself live in again. I hated it—for him, for any person who felt they had to hide. Fuck society for that shit. Fuck people like my parents for keeping that hate alive. I didn’t blame their politics or their religion for it either. I blamed them. We all had choices in how we acted and what we chose to believe. They allowed themselves to hate and fear. Nothing else was to blame.
Was it the same for my bashful, pretty boy from last night? Christ, I’d wanted him—wanted to get on my knees for him, wanted to push Anson to his knees for me, to fuck his mouth, his sexy, plump lips, and let him have mine. To feel him beneath me. I wanted to see what he looked like when he came. It would have been so much better than the look of fear I’d seen in him when I’d asked him to leave with me.
I reached over and took his sunglasses from the nightstand. He’d taken off so quickly, he’d forgotten them. I hadn’t realized until he’d walked away. Technically, I should have left them with the bartender. Anson would likely come back for them. I was a bit of a stalkerish thief for taking them, since I didn’t know who he was or how I’d ever get them back to him, but…I’d wanted them as a reminder of our meeting, which was definitely fucked up.
So he was a pretty boy with a mouth made for kissing and a deep, masculine voice? A fucking gorgeous, athletic body I wanted to taste? That didn’t make him special. I’d had many of them in the past, but he’d been…a joy. He’d made my nerve endings spark in a strange way, and maybe he’d spiked my drink or something because I was thinking some weird, flowery-ass shit.
With a groan, I got out of bed. I had a small studio in DC, where I stayed when Congress was in session. I shot Jeremy a quick text, then got in the shower. Apparently, my trip to DC coincided with one of the first games of the football season. He had good tickets because he loved that shit, and Bobby hadn’t been able to fly out to go with him. I was an amazing friend and hadn’t fought too hard when he’d asked me to go. Like I’d told Anson last night, I liked sports. I just didn’t obsess over them.
I showered and had just put on a pair of jeans when there was a knock at the door. I went over and let Jeremy in. “What’s up, man?”
“Nothing. Excited for the game. I love the Lightning. What’d you do last night?”
“I went to a hotel bar for dinner and a drink. Didn’t feel like cooking. Met a guy and spent a few hours with him.” I tugged my shirt on.
“Christ, how do you so easily find someone to sleep with all the time?”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” I said as I finished getting ready. I’d wanted to sleep with him, of course. There were so many things I wanted to do to him… “We just talked and ate.”
Jeremy shook his hair off his forehead and said, “Oh, well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”