Commitment Collection, page 8
part #1 of Commitment Series
This is him struggling through past hurts to create a future. Whatever happened to him has cast him adrift, craving love but choosing failure.
He turns and walks away, leaving my heart ground to fine dust, vulnerable to the slightest gust in the trees. I package my raw pain back up behind a glass facade, behind the projection of myself I allow the world to see. Perfect to the eye, yet fragile underneath and realize he’s doing the same. Elliott Judd needs someone to take a hold of him and show him what he wants. But it’s going to take some time to understand how to make him see sense. I have one shot.
Elliott
I’ve only ever had this once before. That feeling that my heart has shattered of its own accord, dumped like unwanted garbage in a pile of discarded, inanimate objects.
I remove my helmet from my seat and place it under the netting at the back. I need to feel alive and so I hop on and kick it into action. The throaty roar of the power, the vibration under my seat, and the air blasting away my tears is just what I need. I take the long way into the office.
The force of the powerful machine switches the breeze into wind which races through my hair. I scream above the noise of the engine as I charge along in a gear too low for my acceleration. Angling the bike to round a corner, my body adapts to automatic pilot and sinks into the bend, my knee grazing the thin tarmac. I twist down on the accelerator, speeding up more than is necessary for transportation’s sake, but only just enough to free my mind.
Until I've cleared the corner.
Kyle trusted me to connect with parts of him that no one else has seen. An element of him that even he didn’t know existed, a fragment which he kept hidden deep within his walls of conformity. I touched his soul, dazzling and raw, and in those moments he was more real, no, we were more real, than the air streaming into my lungs. He was my oxygen.
But, none of that is an honest reality. I cannot allow myself to return to the warm bosom of his love. My needs are valid. And yes, his are equally so, but he couldn’t sustain that life blood and so I had no choice. I have no choice. If I’d just left him alone, then neither of us would be experiencing this intoxicating pain right now. But, as events have turned out, it’s necessary. Neither of us should have to deny our true selves for the sake of another. Surely that is the very opposite of true love.
The wind’s fingers are cold as they brush away the tears that streak my cheeks. I didn’t know I was looking for anyone until I walked into that garage and saw Kyle Beaumont diligently working on my car. Until I saw his butt in those shorts and the way his muscles flexed as he made the slightest of movements.
Until he let me into his heart. Until he trusted me. And then, I trusted myself. I trusted that I could have a future beyond racing.
At least this is the last day of testing. We will have some space while we return to the UK factory. I’ll be less likely to bump into him as most of my work will be in the simulator. Then he’ll fly ahead before the race to make sure he’s there to meet the car and sort out any issues from transit.
We have some breathing space; I sigh as I pull down on the accelerator and round another corner.
Kyle
We’ve kept away from each other until now, but as today is the first day back in the office, it’s time for me to initiate what I hope is a well laid plan. I am not about to let Elliott leave my life without trying my best to rekindle our relationship.
He doesn’t seem to appreciate that if I weren’t fully engaged in this relationship, I’d never have accepted that I’m more than a little on the gay spectrum to start with. And he needs to listen, because that was not a light decision and it’s one that deserves to be heard.
I’m waiting in the parking lot when everyone leaves the office. I’ve been hanging around here for two hours before he materializes, ambling out toward his spot without any sense of direction.
He appears confused as he notices something white fluttering on his windshield. He stops, turns, and looks over both shoulders before sliding the paper out from under his wiper blade.
Removing the torn off note from the clear plastic bag, he studies it, and crumples up my message and throws it in a ball on the ground. There’s a heavy clunk as the handle disengages the door and he pulls himself up in to his driver's seat. His engine rumbles.
‘Shit!’ My stomach fizzes, nervous anticipation at a potential end to this feud dissipating into a quagmire of futile emotions.
His humongous pickup reverses out of his private space. Then halts. The cab lurches back on the comfort suspension as the tires squeal to a halt.
His door opens again and he slides back down from his leather seat, searching the ground. When he reaches my note, he scoops up the crumpled paper and smooths it out. He spends a good few minutes rubbing his chin and deliberating his next move. I hold my breath. I don't breathe fully for the entire time it takes him to consider my proposal.
The note reads: ‘Put the following coordinates in your GPS and meet me there.’
I don’t sign it. Just give him the specifics he needs.
Elliott takes his time hauling his ass back into his cab and even then he doesn't leave right away. He sits there, half in, half out of his parking space, the car not moving. He’s completely still inside the truck’s cab, his gaze fixed on a deserted space out of the window.
He’s still, staring ahead. I can see his eyes in the rear view mirror; they're blank. The side of his jaw moves as he chews the inside of his cheek.
And then he moves, finally entering the coordinates into his GPS. His arm slams the truck into gear before swerving out of the parking lot at full speed.
Shit, I’d better get a move on! He’s going for it. Every inch of my body becomes saturated with adrenaline as I race to keep pace. In any other circumstance this would be amusing. Me trying to keep up with a top level racing driver. Thankfully, the place I have suggested is along a main road, so once he hits the highway, there’s very little he can do in terms of speed without ending up losing his license. And I don't expect he'll want that.
As he pulls toward the car park behind the old thatched pub I’ve chosen, his foot lifts, slowing down before taking a leap of faith and pulling down the side and into the parking lot entrance. Once settled in a space, he collects his phone and taps the screen. It remains black.
I don’t want to give him the chance to change his mind so I bounce out of my car which I’ve abandoned at an angle and rap my knuckles against his window.
“Come on.” I wave my hand toward him. I flash a smile which is meant to tell him I'm more confident than I am.
He shrugs, “What, Kyle?”
I pull on the handle to his door and step around it, grabbing his hand from the steering wheel, pulling him toward me. “Get your keys.” I plant both hands on my hips, tapping my foot.
He still hesitates, “I can’t go inside, Kyle. I’ll be swamped. There’s too many people in there. This place is busy.”
“That's precisely why I chose it. Get out!”
I register the shock as his eyebrows shoot up, “You know we won’t get to talk don’t you?”
“This isn’t about talking. It’s about you knowing that I’m not ashamed of who I am, nor of being with you. Now, do you want me, or not?”
He doesn’t reply, but finally this gorgeous, stubborn man, slides out of the car.
When he lands on the ground, I take his hand in mine, bring it to my lips and hold it there for a second. His skin smells of coconut, and as I inhale, I feel an instantaneous calm.
Elliott
Kyle strides ahead of me, pulling my hand as we make our way through the crowds. Every person in the pub does a double take, but no one bothers me until we get to the bar. Kyle orders water for me and a beer for himself.
“I need some Dutch courage,” he says when he turns and grins an adorable grin.
And that’s it.
All the strain since our falling out evaporates.
The pub is busy enough for me to lean against him without it being suspicious, so I take the opportunity to steal a hit of his much needed bodily contact. I’m starting to relax, to release my tension from the last few days with a sigh and enjoy the warmth from the back of his legs against mine. It’s not sexual, it’s something different. Like being at home.
And then...
“Hey, it’s Elliott Judd.” His voice is raised as he turns to his friends, pointing. “How’re ya doing?”
I smile, the one I’ve rehearsed more than a million times now. Originally it was in the mirror at home, but now I'm in front of the camera so much, it's second nature. “I’m good thank you.”
“I love motor racing, think you’re great. I’ll just grab a selfie with you if that’s OK.”
It’s not a question. He’s wrapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into him before I’ve had a chance to take a breath. “Sure,” I say, as I always do.
Kyle turns, waits until the fan has had his picture then hands me a glass before turning into my knight in shining armor. He literally encircles his arm round my waist and says kindly to the overzealous admirer, “See you later. Watch the races this year.” He holds up his pint in a salute, leaves his arm where it was and moves away with me in tow.
“You’re good at this,” I laugh when we find a quieter corner.
“I’m good at a lot of things. Do you miss me?”
I’m a bit shocked at his direct approach. “Of course I do.” This isn’t the time for holding back. He’s made a huge step coming out here with me and I respect him for it.
“Well, I also miss you. I do not like being without you and I’m not prepared to live my life minus the person who made me feel whole in a way I didn’t realize was even possible. We have something Elliott, and I know you-”
“Elliott, buddy. Quick selfie?” This time it’s a big fat bloke who has clearly had more beer than is appropriate. It’s not late enough for his eyes to be glazed in such a fashion.
“Of course.” I flash him the smile. He makes small talk, but manages to notice he's interrupting my evening and has the grace to leave me alone.
“Sorry, this is why I don’t come to places like this.”
“No, it’s OK. I knew what it would be like. I asked around the office for somewhere busy. I needed you to not hear the words, but to believe them. And as I was saying, I know you feel this special thing we have too. We can’t waste it. People search their whole lives and don’t find what we have stumbled upon.”
He plants his hand on my knee. A small gesture, but enormous at the same time and my heart melts. It truly melts. And then my cock springs to life.
“Stop it would you, you’re going to make me cream my pants.” I allow an honest laugh to escape for the first time since I was last with him.
He joins in with a baritone hoot, “I only touched your leg,” he jokes, but he knew what he was doing and his cheeks have taken on a gentle shade of pink beneath his soulful sugar-brown eyes.
“Come on, I’m not hanging around here. You’ve made your point. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk this over.”
Kyle
Elliott’s place is lavish. It's a sandstone manor house that sits at the bottom of a long, and I mean long, private country lane. Hell, you even have to access it through an automatic gate system.
“Wow, I didn’t expect you to live somewhere like this.” I’m sure my mouth is gaping open.
“Why, what did you expect?” He smiles and I love the way his eyes glint.
“Well, the size for one, it's enormous.”
He laughs and reaches over the armrest to hold my hand. “You do know I’m famous right, that whole thing in the bar just now?” He winks as he squeezes my palm in his fingers.
“Yeah, I suppose so, but when we’re just out and about, the two of us, I don’t feel a massive distinction between your life and mine. You should see the dump I’ve been living in since I split with my ex. I’m ashamed.”
“Don't be! I was brought up a normal kid and my parents had to give up everything so that I could race. I don't know if I was spoiled or whether they saw something, but they went without. I'm only where I am because they gave me the chance. The money is the side bar to my dream.”
“Elliott, have you seen this place? It's more than a side bar.”
“This is an investment. It's not my taste. There's no point renting somewhere when I spend so much time in the area. The bigger the price tag, the greater the incremental value when I come to sell it. That’s all.”
“It’s so old,” I say. We park on the gravel drive in front of two matching ornamental privet gardens which sit either side of a medieval door.
“Yeah, it's the location more than anything that attracted me to this place. It’s private.” He waves an arm around, showing me the grounds, as if I’d missed the size of his estate. And it is an estate. Beyond the Japanese style gardens are woods with several paths leading into who knows where.
We enter through a mud room. “This house needs someone with a couple of dogs, but pets don’t suit my lifestyle.” He mutters as he slides off his sneakers.
“Hmm.” I’m really not interested in the house anymore. He’s only telling me this because his nervousness has also ramped up a notch. My hands shake as I remove my shoes and head into his enormous, white kitchen that opens up into an orangery. A pine dining table sits at the end, but don't be fooled, this is not shabby chic. This is a lump of solid wood with a modern elegance rather than rustic charm. It makes me realize that Elliott is trying to live his life the way he wants as much as he is able within the confines of the world of racing.
While I'm taking in the place, he heads straight to the double doors of his fridge which nestles into the side of a pantry. Rooting around, he produces a beer.
“Here.”
“Thanks, but I shouldn’t. I’ll have to drive later.”
The already awkward atmosphere is now electric. Will I be staying? Neither of us knows how this is going to go. Of course, both of us would like that it goes well and that I end up staying. But who's to say at this point in the evening?
“Here take the beer. You can stay in the spare room if things don’t work out.” He pops the cap and hands it to me before grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
We hover, facing each other, no other excuses available to avoid the inevitable.
Until he launches at me.
His fingers nestle into the back of my neck, pulling me into him. I force myself against his weight, pushing him against the counter. I claw at his shirt, sliding my hand up his trim back inside the material, down to the hollow of his back and into his trousers. I grab his ass cheeks, his muscles tense and my cock tightens as he pushes against me, his butt firm in my grip. I place my other hand between his shoulder blades, pulling him, every inch of him against me. Our mouths intertwine, heads tipped to alternate sides, delving deep within the other, hunger for emotions almost lost within this urgent drive.
I push him away, unbuckle his belt and slide him out of his clothes.
Elliott
We’re both naked in my kitchen when it occurs to me that we’ve not yet talked about our issues.
“Stop!” I place my hand against his chest and catch my breath.
“What’s wrong?” he pants into my mouth.
“We were supposed to talk.” My eyes hit the floor, I want this so much but I can’t take advantage of him. We must resolve this before we go any further.
He sighs. “You know my perspective. I wasn’t expecting you to out me there and then with Trevor. It was shock rather than not wanting to be seen as your partner. I showed you that tonight didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. But you need to understand why I reacted like that. Why it bothers me so much.”
“Is there anything that is going to change the way I feel about you?” He kisses the tender part under my ear, trails his tongue down my neck and over my collarbone.
“I don’t know. I want you to decide.”
“We’ll talk in the morning, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Whoa, you’ve done a lot of thinking, haven’t you?” I rest my hands on his flexed biceps as his kisses trail lower and lower.
He peers at me through those liquid eyes. “I’m serious Elliott. I was before, but I’m not about to go through another few days like we just had.”
With that he’s on his knees and slides me into his mouth, his tongue massaging me within his warm space. I groan, buck my hips, pressing him to take me all the way. The tip of his tongue curls slowly under my ridge, licking up over my crown, releasing me before running the outside of his teeth up the underside of my hot manhood. I stiffen and moan as he strokes the soft skin on the inside of my thighs, between my legs, under my balls. Slipping backwards, he drags the back of his finger down my dark crack and circles the sensitive nerves he finds. I almost rocket into orbit. My knees buckle and I arch forward, stabilizing as my backside jabs against the counter.
“Stop!” I say for a second time.
He does stop. “What now?” but he’s smiling. He knows what.
I shake my head. “Let’s go upstairs.” Taking his hand I guide him through the white and cream living room, and to the stairs leading up to my cream and gray bedroom.
When we enter, he removes his mouth from mine long enough to say, “Get on the bed and lie down.”
My cock responds so I do as I’m told. It’s not often someone has the balls to stand up to me and it’s refreshing. I stiffen a little more, if that were even possible, and rest my hands behind my head, spreading my ankles. From his position between my legs, he can see everything and it makes me horny as hell to be so deliciously on display for, and at the mercy of, this towering giant of a man.
“Do you have lube?” He breaks into my musings.
I point to the bedside table. As he leans over me, his hard length shaves over my stomach, resting around my shoulder. A shiver runs down my spine, bounces around the pit of my stomach and lurches upwards. This is it. We’re really going to take this to the next level.
He turns and walks away, leaving my heart ground to fine dust, vulnerable to the slightest gust in the trees. I package my raw pain back up behind a glass facade, behind the projection of myself I allow the world to see. Perfect to the eye, yet fragile underneath and realize he’s doing the same. Elliott Judd needs someone to take a hold of him and show him what he wants. But it’s going to take some time to understand how to make him see sense. I have one shot.
Elliott
I’ve only ever had this once before. That feeling that my heart has shattered of its own accord, dumped like unwanted garbage in a pile of discarded, inanimate objects.
I remove my helmet from my seat and place it under the netting at the back. I need to feel alive and so I hop on and kick it into action. The throaty roar of the power, the vibration under my seat, and the air blasting away my tears is just what I need. I take the long way into the office.
The force of the powerful machine switches the breeze into wind which races through my hair. I scream above the noise of the engine as I charge along in a gear too low for my acceleration. Angling the bike to round a corner, my body adapts to automatic pilot and sinks into the bend, my knee grazing the thin tarmac. I twist down on the accelerator, speeding up more than is necessary for transportation’s sake, but only just enough to free my mind.
Until I've cleared the corner.
Kyle trusted me to connect with parts of him that no one else has seen. An element of him that even he didn’t know existed, a fragment which he kept hidden deep within his walls of conformity. I touched his soul, dazzling and raw, and in those moments he was more real, no, we were more real, than the air streaming into my lungs. He was my oxygen.
But, none of that is an honest reality. I cannot allow myself to return to the warm bosom of his love. My needs are valid. And yes, his are equally so, but he couldn’t sustain that life blood and so I had no choice. I have no choice. If I’d just left him alone, then neither of us would be experiencing this intoxicating pain right now. But, as events have turned out, it’s necessary. Neither of us should have to deny our true selves for the sake of another. Surely that is the very opposite of true love.
The wind’s fingers are cold as they brush away the tears that streak my cheeks. I didn’t know I was looking for anyone until I walked into that garage and saw Kyle Beaumont diligently working on my car. Until I saw his butt in those shorts and the way his muscles flexed as he made the slightest of movements.
Until he let me into his heart. Until he trusted me. And then, I trusted myself. I trusted that I could have a future beyond racing.
At least this is the last day of testing. We will have some space while we return to the UK factory. I’ll be less likely to bump into him as most of my work will be in the simulator. Then he’ll fly ahead before the race to make sure he’s there to meet the car and sort out any issues from transit.
We have some breathing space; I sigh as I pull down on the accelerator and round another corner.
Kyle
We’ve kept away from each other until now, but as today is the first day back in the office, it’s time for me to initiate what I hope is a well laid plan. I am not about to let Elliott leave my life without trying my best to rekindle our relationship.
He doesn’t seem to appreciate that if I weren’t fully engaged in this relationship, I’d never have accepted that I’m more than a little on the gay spectrum to start with. And he needs to listen, because that was not a light decision and it’s one that deserves to be heard.
I’m waiting in the parking lot when everyone leaves the office. I’ve been hanging around here for two hours before he materializes, ambling out toward his spot without any sense of direction.
He appears confused as he notices something white fluttering on his windshield. He stops, turns, and looks over both shoulders before sliding the paper out from under his wiper blade.
Removing the torn off note from the clear plastic bag, he studies it, and crumples up my message and throws it in a ball on the ground. There’s a heavy clunk as the handle disengages the door and he pulls himself up in to his driver's seat. His engine rumbles.
‘Shit!’ My stomach fizzes, nervous anticipation at a potential end to this feud dissipating into a quagmire of futile emotions.
His humongous pickup reverses out of his private space. Then halts. The cab lurches back on the comfort suspension as the tires squeal to a halt.
His door opens again and he slides back down from his leather seat, searching the ground. When he reaches my note, he scoops up the crumpled paper and smooths it out. He spends a good few minutes rubbing his chin and deliberating his next move. I hold my breath. I don't breathe fully for the entire time it takes him to consider my proposal.
The note reads: ‘Put the following coordinates in your GPS and meet me there.’
I don’t sign it. Just give him the specifics he needs.
Elliott takes his time hauling his ass back into his cab and even then he doesn't leave right away. He sits there, half in, half out of his parking space, the car not moving. He’s completely still inside the truck’s cab, his gaze fixed on a deserted space out of the window.
He’s still, staring ahead. I can see his eyes in the rear view mirror; they're blank. The side of his jaw moves as he chews the inside of his cheek.
And then he moves, finally entering the coordinates into his GPS. His arm slams the truck into gear before swerving out of the parking lot at full speed.
Shit, I’d better get a move on! He’s going for it. Every inch of my body becomes saturated with adrenaline as I race to keep pace. In any other circumstance this would be amusing. Me trying to keep up with a top level racing driver. Thankfully, the place I have suggested is along a main road, so once he hits the highway, there’s very little he can do in terms of speed without ending up losing his license. And I don't expect he'll want that.
As he pulls toward the car park behind the old thatched pub I’ve chosen, his foot lifts, slowing down before taking a leap of faith and pulling down the side and into the parking lot entrance. Once settled in a space, he collects his phone and taps the screen. It remains black.
I don’t want to give him the chance to change his mind so I bounce out of my car which I’ve abandoned at an angle and rap my knuckles against his window.
“Come on.” I wave my hand toward him. I flash a smile which is meant to tell him I'm more confident than I am.
He shrugs, “What, Kyle?”
I pull on the handle to his door and step around it, grabbing his hand from the steering wheel, pulling him toward me. “Get your keys.” I plant both hands on my hips, tapping my foot.
He still hesitates, “I can’t go inside, Kyle. I’ll be swamped. There’s too many people in there. This place is busy.”
“That's precisely why I chose it. Get out!”
I register the shock as his eyebrows shoot up, “You know we won’t get to talk don’t you?”
“This isn’t about talking. It’s about you knowing that I’m not ashamed of who I am, nor of being with you. Now, do you want me, or not?”
He doesn’t reply, but finally this gorgeous, stubborn man, slides out of the car.
When he lands on the ground, I take his hand in mine, bring it to my lips and hold it there for a second. His skin smells of coconut, and as I inhale, I feel an instantaneous calm.
Elliott
Kyle strides ahead of me, pulling my hand as we make our way through the crowds. Every person in the pub does a double take, but no one bothers me until we get to the bar. Kyle orders water for me and a beer for himself.
“I need some Dutch courage,” he says when he turns and grins an adorable grin.
And that’s it.
All the strain since our falling out evaporates.
The pub is busy enough for me to lean against him without it being suspicious, so I take the opportunity to steal a hit of his much needed bodily contact. I’m starting to relax, to release my tension from the last few days with a sigh and enjoy the warmth from the back of his legs against mine. It’s not sexual, it’s something different. Like being at home.
And then...
“Hey, it’s Elliott Judd.” His voice is raised as he turns to his friends, pointing. “How’re ya doing?”
I smile, the one I’ve rehearsed more than a million times now. Originally it was in the mirror at home, but now I'm in front of the camera so much, it's second nature. “I’m good thank you.”
“I love motor racing, think you’re great. I’ll just grab a selfie with you if that’s OK.”
It’s not a question. He’s wrapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into him before I’ve had a chance to take a breath. “Sure,” I say, as I always do.
Kyle turns, waits until the fan has had his picture then hands me a glass before turning into my knight in shining armor. He literally encircles his arm round my waist and says kindly to the overzealous admirer, “See you later. Watch the races this year.” He holds up his pint in a salute, leaves his arm where it was and moves away with me in tow.
“You’re good at this,” I laugh when we find a quieter corner.
“I’m good at a lot of things. Do you miss me?”
I’m a bit shocked at his direct approach. “Of course I do.” This isn’t the time for holding back. He’s made a huge step coming out here with me and I respect him for it.
“Well, I also miss you. I do not like being without you and I’m not prepared to live my life minus the person who made me feel whole in a way I didn’t realize was even possible. We have something Elliott, and I know you-”
“Elliott, buddy. Quick selfie?” This time it’s a big fat bloke who has clearly had more beer than is appropriate. It’s not late enough for his eyes to be glazed in such a fashion.
“Of course.” I flash him the smile. He makes small talk, but manages to notice he's interrupting my evening and has the grace to leave me alone.
“Sorry, this is why I don’t come to places like this.”
“No, it’s OK. I knew what it would be like. I asked around the office for somewhere busy. I needed you to not hear the words, but to believe them. And as I was saying, I know you feel this special thing we have too. We can’t waste it. People search their whole lives and don’t find what we have stumbled upon.”
He plants his hand on my knee. A small gesture, but enormous at the same time and my heart melts. It truly melts. And then my cock springs to life.
“Stop it would you, you’re going to make me cream my pants.” I allow an honest laugh to escape for the first time since I was last with him.
He joins in with a baritone hoot, “I only touched your leg,” he jokes, but he knew what he was doing and his cheeks have taken on a gentle shade of pink beneath his soulful sugar-brown eyes.
“Come on, I’m not hanging around here. You’ve made your point. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk this over.”
Kyle
Elliott’s place is lavish. It's a sandstone manor house that sits at the bottom of a long, and I mean long, private country lane. Hell, you even have to access it through an automatic gate system.
“Wow, I didn’t expect you to live somewhere like this.” I’m sure my mouth is gaping open.
“Why, what did you expect?” He smiles and I love the way his eyes glint.
“Well, the size for one, it's enormous.”
He laughs and reaches over the armrest to hold my hand. “You do know I’m famous right, that whole thing in the bar just now?” He winks as he squeezes my palm in his fingers.
“Yeah, I suppose so, but when we’re just out and about, the two of us, I don’t feel a massive distinction between your life and mine. You should see the dump I’ve been living in since I split with my ex. I’m ashamed.”
“Don't be! I was brought up a normal kid and my parents had to give up everything so that I could race. I don't know if I was spoiled or whether they saw something, but they went without. I'm only where I am because they gave me the chance. The money is the side bar to my dream.”
“Elliott, have you seen this place? It's more than a side bar.”
“This is an investment. It's not my taste. There's no point renting somewhere when I spend so much time in the area. The bigger the price tag, the greater the incremental value when I come to sell it. That’s all.”
“It’s so old,” I say. We park on the gravel drive in front of two matching ornamental privet gardens which sit either side of a medieval door.
“Yeah, it's the location more than anything that attracted me to this place. It’s private.” He waves an arm around, showing me the grounds, as if I’d missed the size of his estate. And it is an estate. Beyond the Japanese style gardens are woods with several paths leading into who knows where.
We enter through a mud room. “This house needs someone with a couple of dogs, but pets don’t suit my lifestyle.” He mutters as he slides off his sneakers.
“Hmm.” I’m really not interested in the house anymore. He’s only telling me this because his nervousness has also ramped up a notch. My hands shake as I remove my shoes and head into his enormous, white kitchen that opens up into an orangery. A pine dining table sits at the end, but don't be fooled, this is not shabby chic. This is a lump of solid wood with a modern elegance rather than rustic charm. It makes me realize that Elliott is trying to live his life the way he wants as much as he is able within the confines of the world of racing.
While I'm taking in the place, he heads straight to the double doors of his fridge which nestles into the side of a pantry. Rooting around, he produces a beer.
“Here.”
“Thanks, but I shouldn’t. I’ll have to drive later.”
The already awkward atmosphere is now electric. Will I be staying? Neither of us knows how this is going to go. Of course, both of us would like that it goes well and that I end up staying. But who's to say at this point in the evening?
“Here take the beer. You can stay in the spare room if things don’t work out.” He pops the cap and hands it to me before grabbing a bottle of water for himself.
We hover, facing each other, no other excuses available to avoid the inevitable.
Until he launches at me.
His fingers nestle into the back of my neck, pulling me into him. I force myself against his weight, pushing him against the counter. I claw at his shirt, sliding my hand up his trim back inside the material, down to the hollow of his back and into his trousers. I grab his ass cheeks, his muscles tense and my cock tightens as he pushes against me, his butt firm in my grip. I place my other hand between his shoulder blades, pulling him, every inch of him against me. Our mouths intertwine, heads tipped to alternate sides, delving deep within the other, hunger for emotions almost lost within this urgent drive.
I push him away, unbuckle his belt and slide him out of his clothes.
Elliott
We’re both naked in my kitchen when it occurs to me that we’ve not yet talked about our issues.
“Stop!” I place my hand against his chest and catch my breath.
“What’s wrong?” he pants into my mouth.
“We were supposed to talk.” My eyes hit the floor, I want this so much but I can’t take advantage of him. We must resolve this before we go any further.
He sighs. “You know my perspective. I wasn’t expecting you to out me there and then with Trevor. It was shock rather than not wanting to be seen as your partner. I showed you that tonight didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. But you need to understand why I reacted like that. Why it bothers me so much.”
“Is there anything that is going to change the way I feel about you?” He kisses the tender part under my ear, trails his tongue down my neck and over my collarbone.
“I don’t know. I want you to decide.”
“We’ll talk in the morning, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Whoa, you’ve done a lot of thinking, haven’t you?” I rest my hands on his flexed biceps as his kisses trail lower and lower.
He peers at me through those liquid eyes. “I’m serious Elliott. I was before, but I’m not about to go through another few days like we just had.”
With that he’s on his knees and slides me into his mouth, his tongue massaging me within his warm space. I groan, buck my hips, pressing him to take me all the way. The tip of his tongue curls slowly under my ridge, licking up over my crown, releasing me before running the outside of his teeth up the underside of my hot manhood. I stiffen and moan as he strokes the soft skin on the inside of my thighs, between my legs, under my balls. Slipping backwards, he drags the back of his finger down my dark crack and circles the sensitive nerves he finds. I almost rocket into orbit. My knees buckle and I arch forward, stabilizing as my backside jabs against the counter.
“Stop!” I say for a second time.
He does stop. “What now?” but he’s smiling. He knows what.
I shake my head. “Let’s go upstairs.” Taking his hand I guide him through the white and cream living room, and to the stairs leading up to my cream and gray bedroom.
When we enter, he removes his mouth from mine long enough to say, “Get on the bed and lie down.”
My cock responds so I do as I’m told. It’s not often someone has the balls to stand up to me and it’s refreshing. I stiffen a little more, if that were even possible, and rest my hands behind my head, spreading my ankles. From his position between my legs, he can see everything and it makes me horny as hell to be so deliciously on display for, and at the mercy of, this towering giant of a man.
“Do you have lube?” He breaks into my musings.
I point to the bedside table. As he leans over me, his hard length shaves over my stomach, resting around my shoulder. A shiver runs down my spine, bounces around the pit of my stomach and lurches upwards. This is it. We’re really going to take this to the next level.
