Page 18 of Teach Me To Sin

“Not having your eyeballs eaten. Shake on it?” Reaching across, he slaps his palm against mine. “Good chat.” On his way out of the tent, he grabs my trash and lobs it into a bin.

“What the fuck?” Trevor murmurs. “Was that really Victor Lang?”

“Yep. The boy wonder himself.” Before I can suggest getting away from the cloying smoke of the grills, microphone feedback squeals from the far side of the crowd. When I scramble to my feet, I make out a dark-haired, stocky figure standing on a chair and gripping a cheap mic.

“Hi, can everyone hear me?” Alek’s tense expression melts into a huge smile when the adults clap and the kids cheer wildly. He runs a hand through his hair nervously, but stands tall. “I want to say thank you so much to everyone for buying tickets tonight. You’re the lifeblood of this place, and I appreciate every single one of you.”

“Mr. Alek,” a little boy hollers over the sound of his mom trying to shush him. “I just jumped in the pool by myself!”

His face lights up brighter than the sun that’s slowly setting behind the building. “Really, Harrison? You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He hops off the wobbly chair and holds out his hand. “Give me five, big guy.” Everyone laughs andawws as a kid of about five skips over and slaps his palm, followed by a fist bump. His voice gets louder as he stands up again. “Feel free to keep enjoying the food and games, but our swim meet will start inside in a few minutes. We have races for every age group, so come cheer them on. And if you’re participating, come get your lane assignments.”

Producing a clipboard from under his arm, he heads for the open front doors. I’m about to turn away when I spot a lean figure loitering off to the side. The other man I’ve been jerking off to for a week looks stunning with a clingy white tee and messy hair that’s blazing reddish in the sunset. He keeps his distance from Alek, but they exchange a grin as they head inside. Just like that, I’m deeply interested in watching random kids swim up and down a pool.

“Let’s check out the meet.” Hopping up, I wedge my way into the stream of people moving inside. Despite our efforts to go casual, both Trevor and I look massively overdressed. I know the swim center holds formal banquets for wealthy investors, but this is completely different.

There aren’t any seats left on the benches, so I lean against a wall near the back of the hot, noisy pool area, where no one is likely to notice me. “Are you really into swimming or something?” Trevor complains, checking his phone as he hovers next to me. “I’m ready to go back to mine and get the party started.”

Normally I’d jump at the invitation, but as the first race starts I spot Benji waiting in his swimsuit with some other men his age. Alek must be giving Benji a gentle start in a meaningless event where he can stay anonymous. But based on the intensity on his face, watching everything with a frown line between his eyebrows, it’s anything but meaningless to him.

As his race gets closer, he starts pacing and swinging his arms to warm up. His toned body flexes and ripples in a way that makes my hands ache to run all over him. I’m so enthralled admiring Benji and watching Alek boss people around—both of which are equally arousing—that I’m startled when Trevor elbows me hard enough to suggest that it’s not the first time. He waves his smart watch at me to illustrate that we’ve been standing around for ninety minutes.

“Are we planning to head out anytime soon?”

Based on the age groups, I suspect Benji will swim last. “No, I want to see the end.”

“Seriously?”

His tone pulls my attention to his pissed off face. “What’s the problem?”

“You bring me here, give me a shitty hot dog, make me stand in the back of a pool for hours without talking. Now my feet are tired and you expect me to wait another hour before we fuck?”

“Jesus,” I snap, trying to keep my voice down. “I’ll fuck you as many times as you want later, but I want to stay until this is over.”

His nostrils flare in frustration as he glares at me. “You’re a dick.”

“I never claimed otherwise. You knew that before you agreed to come.” My cock, touchy and half hard, protests at the thought of another night spent jerking off futilely in the shower.

“Forget it.” Trevor pushes off the wall and stalks away. I should have known from the matching shirt comment he was going to be high maintenance.

“I can phone you a car,” I call after him, but he waves me off. Well, there goes that.

Benji

I don’t like sharingmy things. As an only child, no one’s ever made me. Evening swim practice is perfect–Alek and me alone in the building, all his attention and praise and demands on me. Now our private space is packed wall-to-wall with shrieking kids and sweaty adults, and I’m surrounded by twelve-year-olds who probably all swim better than me. When I come in last, Alek will dump me and choose one of them instead.

My stomach hurts, partly from nerves and partly from the twisting, ever-changing guilt that hasn’t let me sleep much the past two weeks. I wish my wound-up brain could stop functioning for an hour or two. Leaning my head back, I stare at the high rafters and unfocus my eyes until everything’s a comforting blur. After a few slow breaths, I tip my chin back down and freeze. Hot Daddy Colson is leaning against a wall on the far side of the room with his arms crossed, watching the sixteen- to eighteen-year-olds race. Even in a basic-bitch plaid button-down he’s sinfully compelling, pulling me in like those strange, dark magnetic stones you play with in gift shops.

A thrill runs through my body when his eyes slide over and fix on mine. I don’t know how long we stare at each other before Alek blows the whistle for my race. Colson offers the slightest mocking smile and raises an eyebrow like a challenge. He and Alek are both going to watch my first race? There is no god in heaven.

My hands are trembling as I splay my toes against the textured surface of the starting block and bend to hook my fingers over the edge. Everything Alek taught me the last few weeks crashes right through my head and out the other side like debris in a flooding river, impossible to grasp. I almost miss the whistle, and my dive looks more like a panicked lunge.

Once I hit the water, all the bullshit going on above the surface–Alek and Colson, the other swimmers, my dad, Gideon–vanishes into a simple world where I have all the control over my body and my choices. My muscles start to burn halfway through, because I haven’t done enough nasty morning workouts yet, but the hurt feels good. I throw myself into it even harder until my shoulders are screaming.

I’m in such a trance that I almost headbutt the wall at the end before catching myself with my hands. A burst of cheers covers up my coughing as I pop up and splutter water out my nose like a loser. I can’t hear what Alek says into the announcer mic, so I spin around to find the person I’m supposed to clap for.

Oh shit–everyone’s looking at me. The guy to my left pats me on the shoulder, but I can’t figure out why until I spot the scoreboard on the wall. My name’s at the top by a fraction of a second, and no matter how many times I blink and check again, it stays there. The applause doesn’t fade away because it’s not child-Benji yelling his own name into the wind.

Overwhelmed, I search the crowd for Alek. There he is, grinning with delight and something like gratitude, like it matters to him that I followed his training. We’re not officially coach and student yet, so I can’t sprint over and tackle him, or drag him away from all these people to go celebrate for real. Instead, I climb out of the pool and wait in a row of winners, shivering as water trickles down my spine. Alek takes a photo, then hands out cheap medals with the name of the swim center on the back. As he slides one into my palm, our eyes meet and he squeezes my hand.

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