Boyfriend for Rent (10 page)

“No problem,” Casey answered, his hands resting in Hunter’s groin area as he started to unbutton. “They
are
tight,” Casey chuckled.

“Go ahead,” Hunter said, thrusting his crotch forward to make it easier.

Casey popped those buttons open until he got to nearly the last one, and that’s when it happened: Hunter’s cock popped out as well.

It was semi-hard and thick.

“Sorry,” Hunter said, trying to stuff it back in his boxers, as if teasing him, daring him to pull it out again.

“No, it’s ...
it’s ... it’s okay.” Casey said, embarrassed. He tried to keep his eyes off of it and ignored his own growing cock which was rock hard.

“Help me get off ... I mean, get them off?” Hunter asked, slurring his words as he pulled his pants down.

Casey took both hands on either side of the jeans.

“Pull it,” Hunter said. Something in his voice was very domina
nt, which only turned Casey on more.

He obeyed, pulling the tight jeans off, his hands sliding down Hunter’s sweaty
, muscular thighs to his hairy, thick calves and down to his socks.

Hunter stood up as Casey went down on his knees. He swallowed hard at the sight of Casey kneeling there, head perfectly poised, as if ready to just open his mouth...

Casey kept his eyes down. He couldn’t look up, not knowing that Hunter was in a t-shirt and boxers. Boxers that housed a bulge that he was far too interested in. His face was at the perfect height to pull Hunter’s cock out and give him the blow job of his life. 
Jesus Christ,
Casey thought, fighting the urge.

He could smell Hunter’s aroma wafting down on him.

“Hey, Casey,” Hunter said, soft and masculine, his voice rumbling.

Casey swallowed, looking up.

“While you’re down there, can you get me off?”

“What?” Casey asked, his voice cracking. He flushed.

“I mean my socks. Can you get my socks off?” Hunter said. He tugged at his t-shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside.

“Sure,” Casey said.

“Should I sit down?”

“If you want.”

Hunter collapsed onto the couch and let out a moan. “Feels good,” he said.

He
looked
good. Those boxers, that body. Casey wanted to run his tongue over each and every tattoo. His legs opened as Casey removed his socks one by one. Casey knew it was a little kinky, but he liked the sweaty smell of a real man’s feet.

For as masculine as he was, Hunter was good at keeping himself clean. The scent was intoxicating.

“Ow!” Hunter winced.

“What is it?” Casey paused.

“My legs are sore. Been riding too much, I guess,” he said.

“Where?” Casey asked. “Here?” He placed his warm hands onto Hunter’s legs and kneaded the knots he felt under the skin.

“Ooh. Yeah, right there. Thanks, man.” Hunter said, closing his eyes.

Casey massaged his calf up and down, just the way Hunter liked it. His hands travelled from his leg
s to his thighs.

“This al
right?” Casey asked.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Hunter said, thrusting his crotch forward once again as he became more comfortable.

Casey threw himself into the massage, gripping and sliding, gripping and sliding.

“Hey Casey,” Hunter said.

“Yeah?” Casey responded.

“It’s a little dry. Got any oil?” Hunter suggested.

Oh, my God,
Casey thought. He was going to cream in his shorts. Everything Hunter said could be explained away as perfectly innocent, even while it brought forth some deliciously filthy alternative ideas.

“Sure,” Casey said. He looked around for lotion in the downstairs bathroom cabinet. Nothing.

Dammit.

He didn’t want to take the time to run upstairs and check too. He wasn’t sure how long this moment was going to last
, and he wanted to enjoy it while he could. There was something in the kitchen that could work. “All you’ve got is olive oil,” Casey said.

“Me? It’s our house now. It’s both of ours,” Hunter slurred.

Casey smiled at the thought as he hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the cupboard.

“Whatever works,” Hunter said, his head leaned back.

Casey fell back to his knees and flipped open the bottle of olive oil.  He poured it on his hands, oil dripping down his wrists as he worked his way from the back of Hunter’s calf to his thighs. Pressing and sliding, pressing and sliding.

Soon, Casey found his way to Hunter’s inner thighs.

“That good?” Casey asked.

“It’s okay. You can keep going, if you want,” Hunter said, breathing in.

Oh, he very much wanted to keep going. Casey started to move his hands into uncharted territory when a loud and familiar ringtone cut through the air. He froze.

Shit
.

“You wanna get that?” Hunter slurred. “Callin’ late. Might be important.”

“No.” Casey shook his head. He slid his hands back down Hunter’s legs. “It’s fine.”

“You should get it,” Hunter insisted as the phone continued to ring. “How do you know it’s not about your mom?”

Casey knew he could lie, but it wouldn’t be right. So even though the truth was going to ruin what they’d had going, he said it. “It’s McDermott’s ringtone.”

“Oh.” Hunter pushed himself up into a more upright position. “He still has his own ringtone.”

Casey sat back on his heels. “I just never took him out of my phone.”

Hunter nodded and stood. He swayed slightly, but caught himself. His voice was surprisingly sober sounding as he said, “You might wanna think about why that is, Casey.”

The phone stopped ringing, but Casey made no move towards it. All he could do was watch Hunter trudge towards the steps and then disappear upstairs, leaving Casey with that statement ringing in his ears and questions following after. Questions that were going to need to be answered, and soon.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 28

T
he night before came crashing down on Casey as he was startled awake by a clatter from the kitchen. He dragged his way into the kitchen where he found Hunter dumping rags into the trash. Rags that looked like they’d been soaked in oil.

“Morning,” Casey said, his cheeks burning as he remembered the olive oil.

Without making eye contact, Hunter cleared his throat and mumbled, “Good morning.”

Oh, yeah, this was going to be awkward. Casey could’ve kicked himself. He and Hunter were supposed to be leaving for the reunion this morning and they were tiptoeing around each other.

“Gotta go get ready,” Hunter said. He brushed past Casey up the stairs. A minute later, the sound of the shower came down the stairs.

Casey sank into the kitchen chair, clutching his aching head. He shouldn’t have done what he’d done last night. Couldn’t he control himself? Now
he’d jeopardized his living space and his only friend. He wanted to talk about it with Hunter, to apologize, but he knew Hunter was right. It was getting late and if he didn’t get ready soon, they’d never beat traffic to Portland. Besides, he needed to get rid of this hangover if he was going to be able to hold a coherent conversation.

Thirty minutes later, Casey was waiting in the living room when Hunter rushed down the stairs completely unrecognizable. He hadn’t just cleaned up. A few days ago, Casey had given Hunter a few pictures of properly groomed men to look at and
to help him decide if there were any pointers he could take away. Apparently, he’d taken that to heart. His eyebrows were plucked, his beard all but gone, down to just enough stubble to keep him from having a tan line. Casey could see the full shape of Hunter’s mouth for the first time and it made his gut clench painfully. Then there was the hair. The haircut couldn’t pass for something expensive, but Casey could barely believe that Hunter had done it himself. It was short, exposing Hunter’s face and neck, revealing the true beauty of those strong lines. He was gorgeous.

Casey almost didn’t want to look at him, but he couldn’t help himself. The transformation was remarkable. Hunter had been attractive before, and this wasn’t like he’d changed who he was. It was more like he’d been some beautiful sculpture, hidden beneath layers of dust and grime, and was just now getting cleaned off so the true beauty could shine through.

“Let’s go,” Hunter said as he opened the door. He made only enough eye contact to motion Casey towards the truck.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 29

I
t seemed like hours before someone said a single word. So much was running through Casey’s mind: so many doubts, so many insecurities. Casey just wanted to cry. He’d fucked up and fucked up badly. Why had he kept McDermott in his phone? Last night, when he’d finally gone up to his room, he’d sat on the edge of his bed, staring at McDermott’s name in his phone, thinking about everything that had happened in his life. The years he’d spent in high school being picked on for who he was, while McDermott pretended to be something else. Then after graduation, he’d been sure they would move in together to somewhere they wouldn’t have to hide; but then he found out that McDermott still intended to become a priest in a denomination in which they wouldn’t be allowed to be together. He was lying to everyone to protect a man who wouldn’t stand up for him. In the short time he and Hunter had been friends, Hunter had done more to protect Casey than McDermott ever had.

Deleting McDermott from the phone was easier than Casey had thought it would be, as was ignoring the half a dozen text messages that confirmed the only reason McDermott had been calling was to tell Casey that it wasn’t a good idea to go to the reunion. Casey just wished he would’ve deleted the number and blocked McDermott weeks ago. Then again, he thought, if he were to be completely honest, if the phone call hadn’t interrupted he and Hunter, would that have really been a good thing? He doubted they would’ve gone all the way, but he was nearly positive that the night would’ve ended in at least a hand
job, maybe some oral, and how freaked out would Hunter have been by that?

He was grateful Hunter was a man of his word, following through with the promise he’d made to go to the reunion. But what about afterward? Would Hunter hold what had happened against Casey? What would it mean for their friendship? For Casey’s living situation?

Casey stared out the window, watching cars pass. He could see Hunter looking at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn. He didn’t know what he’d see, and wasn’t sure if he could take whatever he did see there. Disdain. Disgust. Horror. He couldn’t take it if he saw any of those things on Hunter’s face.

Hunter cleared his throat a few times and then did something Casey didn’t expect.

He put his hand on top of Casey’s and gripped it.

Then
he lifted it to his lips and gave it a kiss.

He didn’t say a word, but that gesture said all Casey needed to know.

I’ve got you.

Casey tried not to read into it anything more than Hunter was willing to get into character early. That was enough for him. Knowing Hunter was going to do this for him. It was enough.

Wasn’t it?

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 30

“W
e booked twin beds, not a single queen.” Casey spoke with the lobby on the room phone as Hunter checked out the balcony of their fancy hotel suite. He didn’t seem to be as concerned with the room as Casey was.

Casey plopped himself onto the bed. He was about to explode when Hunter grabbed the phone and hung it up.

“It’s just one night,” he said. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up.”

It took all of Casey’s willpower not to watch Hunter walk into the bathroom, but he wasn’t able to stop himself from thinking about what was happening whe
n the door shut. He knew what he would look like when Hunter pulled off that t-shirt, his muscles rippling under his tanned skin. Next would come the jeans, revealing those muscular legs that he’d had his hands on just last night. He could still feel them under his fingers. Then the underwear. He’d only seen Hunter’s cock for a few seconds, but the image was burned into his mind.

“Fuck.” Casey let out a rush of air. He needed to cool down. He stood. Ice. He should go get ice. He grabbed his key and the ice bucket and headed out.

When he came back ten minutes later, he was feeling much more in control and his pants didn’t feel so tight. There was something to be said for holding a bucket of ice against his crotch when walking down the hall. He set down the bucket and walked over to the window to take a look at the view.