Page 44 of Serve
“You ready, because I can’t wait any longer, babe? This is all I’ve wanted since I woke up and saw the sun shining on your face next to mine.” Tyler said softly, shaking his head at the memory. Chip’s eyes snapped open, and he smiled.
“Seriously though, I really do love you. Now fuck me, please.”
Tyler laughed, amazed at how stupidly romantic he could sometimes be. He pushed in the first inch, relishing the tightness of Chip’s walls. Maybe he was a freak, unable to separate love and sex. All he knew was sex with Chip was better than any of the anonymous one-night stands he’d had while on the road. He couldn’t imagine going back to that life, so empty compared to it now.
Chip’s lower body was pushing down on him, swallowing his cock in his ass. Waking from his romantic thoughts, Tyler placed his hands on Chip’s shoulders, placed his lips next to his ear, and blew gently, while filling him completely.
“Oh yes, yes, this is what I want.” He murmured in Chip’s ear. He pulled himself up, took one of Chip’s nipples between his fingers and gently applied pressure while pulling his cock almost all the way out, then slamming it back inside.
Tyler took Chip’s legs and placed them on his shoulders, so he could go even deeper inside him. Moments later he felt Chip’s muscles contracting around his cock. He stopped moving, again hoping to prolong the act. Chip opened his eyes and gave him a pleading look that said, “Please, stop teasing me.” Tyler began thrusting inside him, building up the pace until all he could feel was the tightness of Chip’s ass around his cock.
“Oh, babe, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He said between thrusts. That full feeling was building deep within his balls, and seconds later, without a word spoken, Chip’s cock exploded, his come shooting across his stomach and chest. Chip’s mouth opened, but no words were said, only guttural sounds that pierced the animal part of Tyler’s brain.
Hearing Chip’s pleasure, and feeling his ass working his length sent Tyler over the edge. From the base of his feet he felt sparks as he emptied into his man. It worked upward, intense sensations emanating from the base of his dick, with little explosions of light bursting behind his closed eyelids. Tyler shook uncontrollably, barely holding himself up as his orgasm worked its way through him. Seconds later his hands gave up the fight, and he collapsed on top of Chip, their sweaty bodies heaving from their exertions.
“I love you.” Tyler said in a whispered voice, then he rolled off his man and fell into a deep, restful sleep.
Tyler’s eyes fluttered open an hour later. Chip wasn’t there, so he leaned over the side of the bed and looked for his shorts, which held his phone. He didn’t want to destroy the romantic atmosphere that hung languidly over the bedroom by checking the phone in front of Chip. He almost fell off the bed, but finally managed to get his fingers on his shorts. He fished his phone out of the pocket and saw the little green light flashing.
DON'T FORGET I STILL HAVE THE PICS
His stomach shot into his throat.
He knew who had sent the message without checking.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Chip stood at the door with a vase in each hand, one with the roses, and the other wildflowers. “Who’s on the phone?”
“Nothing. It’s not important.” Tyler said. He slipped the phone back in the pocket, letting the shorts fall to the floor. One look at the beautiful man standing in the doorway made up his mind about what he had to do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chip- London
“Spaghetti for breakfast. I’ll never get used to that.” Chip said, watching Tyler eat.
“Carb loading works. It keeps me full for hours, and gives me the energy to make it through a long match. Since this is Travis’s first grand slam final, I doubt it’ll go beyond three sets.” He said, then took a sip of some hydrating elixir Emm swore by. Chip tasted it once, and spat it out. Sweetened ocean water was the only thing he could think of to compare it to. Tyler drank several bottles of it daily when he was in a tournament to prevent dehydration.
“I want you to win more than anything, Tyler. Just remember, he’s in the final for a reason. He’s good, and he wants to win it too. Don’t take him for granted.” Emm said, then took a bite of cantaloupe. She’d practically moved in with them over the last week, ever since Tyler made it to the second week of Wimbledon. She only left to go to sleep. When Chip finally got frustrated enough to ask why she was always there, she laughed, patted him on the cheek, and said nothing. Tina showed up later that afternoon, and did her best to keep him occupied while Emm and Tyler talked about strategy and tactics.
“Chip, c’mon, let’s go buy something on Tyler’s charge card for you to wear to the final. I need a new tube of ‘going through the change’ red for my lips. Oh, and we need to pick up your tuxedos.” Dixie said from the doorway. She’d used a blue rinse on her hair for an electrifying look the cameras wouldn’t miss when they panned over to Tyler’s box. Sania shook her head when she saw it, while Tyler couldn’t stop laughing.
Chip nearly ran to the door to get out of the tense room. Emm and Tyler were like generals preparing for battle.
“We’ll see you in a few hours. Good luck sweetie. You’re gonna hold that big ass silver plate today, I promise!” Dixie said to Tyler. Chip turned and waved, but Emm and Tyler were busy going over the stats from his semi-final win over Roger. His only win against the greatest player of all time. The newspapers had Tyler’s picture all over the front page, while booking shops were positive it was Tyler’s tournament to lose.
“C’mon Chip, we could walk through the room buck-naked and they wouldn’t notice us. Let’s go spend his money at a makeup counter and get you a nice blazer.” She said, then dragged him through a crowd of reporters to a waiting BMW.
“Are you ready for this to be over yet?” Aunt Dixie asked.
“You’ve asked me that at least twenty times already. The answer is still the same; yes.”
His aunt was trying new lipsticks on the back of her hands. She had at least forty different stripes of red covering her hands and wrists. To Chip’s eyes they all looked the same, like a colorful case of the measles.
“What do you think of this one?” She pointed at the middle of her hand. He couldn’t tell the difference between them, so he nodded and made a positive sound.
“I think it matches my skin tone better than the last one. I’m a winter. Hand me the makeup remover, hon.” She said. He handed her the bottle. She used it to wipe off the mess of dots, but to Chip’s horror, she grabbed another tube of lipstick and started the process all over again.
“Dixie, we don’t have all day to pick out…”
