Page 41 of The Swap Masquerade

“Please, stop apologizing. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, but it means a lot that you came to me. Will you stay here with me tonight? Let me take care of you?”

The first smile I’d seen since he arrived, spread across his face. “I’d like that.”

I stood and reached a hand out toward him. Elliott slid his hand in mine and stood up next to me. Together, we walked around the room, turning off lights and locking the doors. When we were finished, I led him to the bathroom where I stripped us out of our clothes. I set the shower to the right temperature and then ushered him in under the spray.

He leaned his forehead against my shoulder, and I reached around, kneading the back of his neck and shoulders with my fingers. He hummed as the tension seeped from his body and I felt his soft lips as he pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat. I reached for the soap and lathered it in my hands then I began washing him, starting with his neck and working my way over his broad shoulders, down his tapered waist, and over the two little dimples on either side of his lower back.

Elliott kissed me a second time, along the side of my neck and I felt my erection grow between us. He must have felt it too because he hissed and then I felt his own hard cock pressing against my belly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I started to pull back, but he stopped me, his fingers digging into my hips. “No, don’t. Please, Gavin. I need you.”

I searched his eyes, checking for any sign that he was unsure, but all I saw was need and want and something else I was almost too afraid to hope for. Something that made my heart swell up and had me nodding yes. Yes, anything you need. You can have it all. Unable to hold back, I leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, but soon grew frantic when I slid a soapy finger through his crevice and circled the tight little pucker hidden inside. Elliott thrust his hips, seeking friction for his aching cock. His moan echoed loudly inside the shower as I wrapped my fist around his cock and stroked him. The slick lather in my hand made the motion easier and he nearly screamed when I slid a soapy digit inside of him. With my fist around his cock and a finger from my other hand in his ass, he lost whatever tenuous hold remained on his self-control.

Elliott was nothing short of magnificent as he threw his head back, and with hands on the shower wall for support, began fucking his cock through my fist. “That’s it. Take what you need from me. Use me to get yourself off, baby.” A second digit breeched his entrance, and I began finger fucking him with them, hitting his prostate with every thrust back inside.

Within a matter of seconds, he was coming, spurting hot seed over my hand and down the tiled wall. He was exhausted after, mentally and emotionally drained from his rough day. I wrapped my arm around him, supporting him so his legs wouldn’t give out as I rinsed him clean. “What about you?”

I kissed the side of his head. “Don’t worry about me. Tonight was about you.”

When I was finished rinsing him, I helped him out of the shower and dried him off, then I led him to my bed and tucked him in under the covers. I walked around the foot of the bed and climbed in beside him, turning off the lamp on my bedside table. He sighed as I pulled him into my arms, snuggling into my embrace. That night, I would be the big spoon, watching over him and keeping him safe from anything that might hurt him.

Chapter 17

ELLIOTT

“Strike Two!” the ump called.

I stood on the pitcher’s mound, facing the packed stands. We were playing at home and it seemed as if the entire student population of Bradbury had shown up to see the last game of the season. This game was momentous for everyone on the team, but for different reasons. For the lower classmen, it was a way to secure a spot in the championships. For the seniors, it would be an emotional and victorious end to their college baseball careers. But for me, it was the end of an era, the final exclamation in that chapter of my life before I moved on to the next.

I scanned the crowd, searching for one face in particular. I spotted him, five rows up in the center and looking more gorgeous than any man had a right to look. He was holding a Bradbury Eagles pennant in his hand and he waved it in the air with a little smile. I scratched my eyebrow with my thumb in the signal we’d established that morning, which said I was thinking about him. He tapped his chest once, which he’d informed me meant he thought I looked hot in my uniform.

I bit my lip to hide my grin then closed my eyes. This was it. All the years of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice. I’d given everything I had to this sport and it all came down to one final moment. I only wished my dad was there to see it. I felt a pang in my chest at the thought.

It had been a week since I’d dropped the bombshell on my family, and I still hadn’t heard from my father. Mom had called every day to check in and tell me she loved me, but not a word from Dad. It hurt, but I also understood. After all, I’d had years to get used to the idea of me being gay and not playing baseball anymore, but he’d only had a week. It was admittedly, a lot to take in, but I hoped that over time, he’d start to come around. Mom seemed to think he would, but I wasn’t so sure.

With my eyes closed, I thought back to happier memories I’d had with my dad, the ones that had made me want to play baseball in the first place. The memory was crystal clear of the two of us, out in the back yard, the sun shining on our faces. I hadn’t been much taller than his knees at that point and the glove on my left hand, one of his hand-me-downs, was much too big. He squatted down, holding his gloved hand out in front of him, a radiant smile on his face.

“Come on, E. You can do it. Toss it right to the glove, just like daddy taught you.” His eyes had been shining with all the love and pride he felt for me and I clung to that feeling.

“This one’s for you, Dad,” I whispered.

I opened my eyes, went into a pitching stance that was as familiar to me as breathing, and sent the ball flying out of my hand. It whipped through the air like a speeding bullet. The batter swung, but the ball remained untouched as it soared over home plate, landing in the catcher’s mitt.

“Strike three! You’re out!”

The crowd went wild, jumping to their feet and cheering and waving. My teammates came across the field in a rush, lifting my feet off the ground and setting me on their shoulders. I laughed when they started chanting my name, and for the first time, I didn’t even mind that they were calling me by that dumb nickname, Stoner. I looked up in the stands to see Gavin send me a wink. It was an odd merging of the two halves of my life, my past and what I truly hoped would be my future.

It hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to figure out I wanted Gavin to be in my life, no matter what the future held. I already knew I’d fallen in love with him, and the past week had only served to cement that feeling. He’d been there for me, holding me whenever I cried and listening when I needed to talk. He’d kept me fed and helped me study for my exams. He’d been my rock, always making sure I felt safe and cared for. We hadn’t admitted our feelings to each other yet, at least, not in so many words, but the way he held me each night as we made love, gave me hope that perhaps he felt the same.

Once I was back on my feet, my teammates and I settled in for a few interviews with area reporters. I brushed aside their questions regarding my plans for the future. I chose instead to keep things private. I’d spent my entire life answering to others and doing what was expected of me, and I simply wanted to enjoy a little privacy. There was no burning need inside of me to announce to my teammates and the rest of the world that I was gay because what would be the point? Everyone that mattered in my life already knew.

As I was finishing the last interview, I caught Gavin out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning casually against a post on the other side of the fence. He was wearing a white t-shirt with Bradbury Eagles Baseball written across the chest and a matching ballcap. He’d joked about wearing one of my jerseys, but we knew he couldn’t do that without making everyone suspicious. Although, I had to admit the thought of him wearing my jersey, my name stitched over his heart and my number on his back, did stupid things to my heart. Perhaps I could get him to wear it sometime when we were alone. Only that.

I grinned as I walked over to him. “Professor Holt. It’s good to see you here.”

His lips twitched. “Mr. Stone. I wanted to congratulate you on your win. You played a great game.”

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