Slinky; Screen Shots, Book 3

Screen Shots 3: Slinky Willa Okati All rights reserved. Copyright ©2009 Willa Okati WARNING: The unauthorized repro...

Author: Willa Okati

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Screen Shots 3: Slinky Willa Okati All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2009 Willa Okati

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this or any

copyrighted work is illegal. File sharing is an International crime, prosecuted by the

United States Department of Justice and the United States Border Patrol, Division of

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instance.

ISBN: 978-1-60521-263-0

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Changeling Press LLC

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www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Margaret Riley

Cover Artist: Reneé George

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Screen Shots 3: Slinky Willa Okati

Ross, the All-American “boy next door,” is a long-established star of twentysomethingtwinks.com. He’s settled into his comfort zone. Maybe too much so. He needs shaking up and waking up. Maddox thinks he’s the perfect man for the job. Unfortunately for him, Ross doesn’t. Ross can’t see anything happening between himself and a crazy punk, but he’s wrong. Ross and Maddox have the kind of on-screen and off-screen chemistry no one can deny. It doesn’t hurt that Maddox is amazingly flexible and can do things in bed that’d blow a monk’s mind. When vanilla meets Rocky Road, it’s a taste sensation and exactly what Ross discovers he’s been craving. But can he find it in himself to take what he and Maddox have to the next level? Credits

Cast (In Order Of Appearance)

Aaron -- Cody’s “Chauffeur”

Cody -- Aaron’s Roommate

Dylan -- Unofficial Mentor To The Rookies

Gabriel -- Twentysomethingtwinks Star

Brandon -- Amateur Talent

Ross -- All American Boy Next Door

Maddox -- Outrageously Flexible

Skyler -- Mouthy Brat

Guest Starring: Jake -- Grad Student Crew:

Katherine -- Owner And CEO, Token Female

Thom -- Producer And Lead Cameraman

Smutpuppy -- Guard Dog -- yeah, right…

Chapter One “Hey! You’re Ross. Thought I’d find you here. Fantastic.” Ross plucked one iPod ear bud out and cocked his head, scoping out a manshaped blur of color that’d skidded in from one side. “Who wants to know?” “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Whoever this guy was, and he wasn’t anyone Ross had seen before at Twentysomethingtwinks.com -- this guy was someone you couldn’t forget -- and he wasted no time making himself at home in the break room. He bypassed the coffee pot for the espresso machine no one except Ross knew how to work. “Sweet. They don’t spare the expense around here, huh?” The guy cracked his knuckles. “C’mon, baby. Gonna be a good girl for me?” Ross backed away two steps. This machine had a tendency to explode and spit lukewarm espresso on anyone -- besides him -- who poked too hard at the wrong thing. “Careful.” “Bah. Technology likes me. Purr for me, sweetheart, purr.” “Good luck,” Ross said, calmly confident that the espresso machine would blow up in the guy’s face. Good thing the machine didn’t have magnetized parts. Mr. Whoever had enough metal in his laddered earrings, nose stud and chin stud for a nasty accident to happen if he got too close to anything electric. Solid black tribal tattoos swirled down his arms, starkly vivid against the freckled fairness of his complexion. Eye-wateringly neon green hair that looked like someone had wielded a weed-whacker while blindfolded to style only added to the overall impression -- somewhere between dangerous and certifiable. “And yeah, I’m Ross. Who are you?” “An excellent question. I am a hundred different things, all rolled into one. I’m a bitch, I’m a lover -- aha, not bad, made you laugh.” He seemed to know exactly what he

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was doing, flipping switches, coaxing the machine to life. With a gurgling rush and a crunching grind, the espresso machine came alive, the smell of rich roast coffee emanating in lush waves. “Hotcha. Knew I could make you talk, you sweet thing. Isn’t that right?” Ross glared at the machine. Fucking traitor. Annoyed, he asked the stranger, “Do you work here?” “As of this morning. Welcome your new work buddy. Six foot one of nasty fun.” Yeah. That, Ross could believe. Katherine, the CEO of Steel Mill Productions, hired all kinds. Admittedly, none of them had been like… him. Everything else, from the tall to the short, the square, long, blond, brunet. Anything went as long as they were young and hung, STD-free, and not psychotic. Katherine might have forgotten to check that last part of this guy’s references. “I need a name. Otherwise I’m gonna have to call you Tattoo.” “And no one wants that. Da plane, boss, am I right?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Geez. Some respect for the classics, huh? Hey, what are you listening to?” He wiped the dangling ear bud on his shirt and popped it in. “Whoa. Alice in Chains?” Ross tweaked the ear bud away from tall, green-haired and bizarre. “So?” “So I’d figured you for a Travis Tritt or maybe, on an adventurous day, an N’Sync kinda guy.” “Low blow. What do you listen to, Nine Inch Nails backwards?” “Maddox.” The guy was busy filling a Styrofoam cup with at least four shots of straight, thick-as-tar espresso. Ross watched, dubious. Did anyone want this guy hyped up on that much caffeine? “Say that again. Bono Vox? As in U2?” “Hell, no. My musical tastes run to whale songs, thunderstorms, pan pipes, that kind of thing.” “How dumb do you think I am?” “Not half as dumb as you are pretty.” The man’s throat worked smoothly as he

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gulped the espresso down, no time lost in waiting for it to cool. Jeez. He had to have a throat made of leather. “Maddox. That’s me.” He held out his fist. “Give me some love.” Ross wound the ear bud cords around his iPod and slipped it in his pocket. “Thanks, but no thanks.” “Aww, now that’s hardly nice, is it? Here. You want the rest of this? No? Your loss.” Maddox -- what kind of name was that, anyway? -- tossed back the last drops and made a deeply satisfied Ahhhhh sound that Ross usually associated with someone on the job getting their sweet spot pounded. Ross cleared his throat, embarrassed by the stirring in his shorts. Sounds were his weakness. A throaty moan, the grunts a guy made when he was close enough to O to taste it, a playful growl, any one of them did the trick. If Maddox could give Ross half a stalk with a contented purr, Ross figured there was no shame in fearing him. “There something I can do for you, Maddox?” he asked, gruff to cover the rising blush that’d stain his cheeks. Maddox didn’t miss a bit of that. He propped his ass on the edge of the coffee table, cocky as a fox who liked the looks of this particular henhouse, and ran his tongue along his upper lip. “You so can. Matter of fact, we’re gettin’ busy this morning. You cool with that?” “Wait, what?” Ross evaded Maddox’s casual reach for him. “Bullshit we are. I’m here to work on some props.” “Oh, damn. Don’t tell me you don’t --” Maddox put on a show with pumping hips and waggling tongue. “That’d break my heart.” He thumped his chest. “I might never recover. Besides, I’ve seen you in action on the site -- nice moves, even if you’re so vanilla they probably use you to make sugar cookies -- so that’d make you a liar and I’d have to spank you.” Ross’s cock stiffened. Maddox noticed. Of course he did. “Kinky. Nice. C’mon. We’re wasting daylight.” He braceleted Ross’s wrist and pulled. “Uh-uh.” Ross resisted. “If I were doing a scene this morning, Katherine would have asked, and I’d have signed a contract.” Maddox might have been stronger than he

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looked, but so was Ross. “If Katherine hired you, you know better.” “You doubt me. I’m wounded. Truly I am. These cuts may never heal. I didn’t say we were shooting a vid this morning. Well. There’ll be shooting involved, just not on film.” “But --” “I said we were getting busy this morning. Off the clock. You assumed the rest. Tsk, tsk. Yet I can’t help noticing you didn’t say no.” “Then no.” Ross stared at him. “Does that kind of crap work in the real world?” “Depends on whether or not the Great Spirits are smiling down on me. Yo, Thom!” Maddox pivoted on his heel and high-fived Twentysomething’s second-incommand. He looked even more out of place next to Thom’s expensive, understated business casual and neatly trimmed hair. “Catch you later. Places to go, people to meet, best fuck-spots to sniff out, you know how it goes. Peace.” He shot the both of them the V fingers on his way out. Ross didn’t have to look at Thom to see his sheepishness. “What the hell, Thom? Is he for real?” “Looks like you met our new recruit. Did he leave any -- no.” Thom never drank coffee, only rarely indulged in tea that looked more like grass clippings to Ross, and could have been the centerfold for Ascetics Monthly. Today, after the advent of Maddox, Thom sniffed the espresso smell and sighed. That told Ross just about everything he needed to know. Almost. “What kind of dirt does he have on Katherine to land him a job here?” “None. You know better. She says he has potential, and headaches aside I’d be inclined to agree. We’ll see.” “That’s what they all say,” Ross replied, dubious. “I came down to tell you the motorcycle prop’s arrived. Our insurance policy holders are going to boil us in oil, but you can take a crack at it any time you’re ready. If you manage to get her running again I’ll give you a medal of honor.” Normally, mention of a machine Ross could get his hands dirty in would have

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sent his mind barreling down a one-way track, and he’d been salivating over the thought of the Harley chopper for weeks. Almost had wet dreams about it. Kinda hard to get lime-green hair and tribal tattoos out of his head at the moment, though. “What kind of potential did Katherine see in that clown?” Thom grimaced. Clearly, he’d hoped Ross would take the motorcycle bait. “Sure you wouldn’t rather talk about the vintage Harley waiting outside?” “Uh-uh. He came on to me like we were in, I don’t know, a cheap bar with peanut shells on the floor. Or in his case, more like cement-block walls and empty poppers scattered around.” “He didn’t offer you --” “No.” It wasn’t that Ross couldn’t tell a lie; it was more than they didn’t come easily to him. “So he really does work here?” “Mmm. As of this morning. I’m choosing to trust her. Katherine knows what she’s doing, Ross. She hasn’t steered anyone wrong yet. The woman has an eye, and she has a good head on her shoulders. Have some faith.” “I’d rather have fact.” Ross crossed his arms and refused to break eye contact. Thom sighed and returned the favor. “So tell me about him,” Ross said. “He’s, uh, colorful.” “Literally. His hair was purple on the interview tape he sent in.” “Wait. He applied? Wasn’t recruited?” “He’s a fan.” Ross wanted to edge away. “This is going to end up like Misery, isn’t it?” Thom cracked a grin that broadened into a laugh. “I doubt it. Maddox is unique. He has his own style. Speaking of which, I’ll be frank and let you know in advance that if you’re willing you’ll get a chance to get to know him.” Ross didn’t like the way Thom seemed to be hedging. “Is that so?” “He asked for you in particular.” “Fucking hell, Thom.” “No one promised him anything. Who you do scenes with is up to you, same as

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always.” Ross subsided. Twentysomething hadn’t done him wrong so far. He had no reason to disbelieve Thom. Maybe all the more reason to tread carefully around Maddox, though. Thom had found his Zen again. “I meant to warn you first and get your thoughts. Frankly, I didn’t expect Maddox to be an early bird.” “Can’t blame you there,” Ross had to admit. Guys like him, who worked hard and took pride in their jobs -- and he had no shame; fucking was a skill like any other and he was good at what he did -- were the ones who were up with the dawn, ready to hit the ground running when they rolled out of bed. Guys like Maddox were usually just crashing around that time after a night out partying. “Ross.” Thom waited to be sure Ross was paying attention to him. “All you have to do is say no, and that’s the end. We’ll keep you two separate.” Ross started to say please and thank you; instead, he kept his mouth shut. He drew his eyebrows together and bit the inside of his cheek. Pansying out was something else he didn’t do. A real man didn’t worry about getting his hands dirty. So he’d do a scene or two with the wild child. What could it hurt? Don’t answer that. “Nah,” he said, his shrug casual and his smile easy. “I’m good.” He could tell Thom didn’t exactly believe him, but Thom was cool that way and let it pass. Whew. “When do we start?”

*** Back when Ross had first started at Twentysomething, watching other guys do scenes made him uncomfortable. C’mon, it was kind of a shock to walk down a hallway in search of a soda machine and have to squeeze past a knot of guys hanging off one another’s shoulders, eyes glued to a studio where two or more other guys were getting naked and sweaty. He’d adjusted. Weird or not, there was no doubt the view was hot. The guys had

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made room for him, treated him like one of their own, until Ross had settled in as much as he figured he would. Hadn’t gotten as close, though, as say, the three guys inside the studio who were either going to work their way into a fuck train or tear each other apart. Even odds as to which way it’d pan out. Ambling up to hang out in the doorway where Gabriel, Dylan and Brandon were filming was habit, not curiosity, even with the kind of energy those three put into their work. Ross wasn’t paying attention so much as he was waiting for someone else to show up and hang with. Ross didn’t expect Maddox, though on second thought he probably should have. A sharp, impressed whistle heralded Maddox’s sideways slide into Ross. “Holy shit.” He rested his elbow on Ross’s shoulder and leaned forward like a kid peeping through the bars of a tiger cage. Not too far off from the truth, come to think about it. “Dude. That’s incredible. Are they using sounds?” Ross frowned. “Sounds like what? They don’t usually have music in the vids --” For whatever reason, Maddox thought that was hilarious. He pinched Ross’s cheek, then slapped it in a strange, friendly sort of way. “You’re adorable. Nah, I’m not talking about bow-chicka-bow-bow.” He did the from-the-pelvis dance in time with his beat-boxing. “Those three like their toys, huh?” Ross tried to push Maddox off. No dice. “What the fuck are you talking about?” “I’m talking about fucking. What else? Here, look.” Maddox pointed, guiding Ross’s curious gaze to ground zero, namely Brandon on his back with his legs spread, one over Dylan’s naked lap and one over Gabriel’s. Looked vaguely gynecological until you got to the dark, thick length of Brandon’s dick in Dylan’s hand while Gabriel wielded a not-too-slim metal rod and -“Holy shit.” Ross’s groin cramped in horrified sympathy. “Ow.” “He likes it.” Maddox shrugged. “Just so you know, I’m not into that. At all.” “Meh.” Maddox scruffed his knuckles over his chin, conveying perfect laissezfaire with a hint of a smirk. “Different strokes.”

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True enough, and Ross could roll with that. Sure sounded like slim and not-soslim metal rods up his cock had Brandon on the edge. Pretty-boy had started to breathe fast and hard, already treading the fine edge between wanting to come and wanting to make it last forever. Ross didn’t so much want to ask, but he had to know. “What’d happen if he came with that rod --” “It’s a sound, dumbass.” Maddox flicked Ross’s ear, apparently totally comfortable with hanging off him like a monkey. “You were saying?” Ross shuffled his feet, feeling green as grass and twice as brainless. “What happens if he shoots with that sound in his dick? Would it choke up like a clog, or --” “Adorable, I fuckin’ swear you are.” Maddox’s chopped-up hair, sharp with the product he used to spike it, prickled Ross’s neck. “Don’t patronize me, asshole.” Ross pushed Maddox away, for all the good it did. Maddox glided back into his space as if the metal of his piercings and something inside Ross were drawn together magnet-wise. “Get off.” “Nah. I’m comfortable, thanks.” Maddox watched the three guys, the entire cast of Twentysomething’s “special advisory” subsection -- so far -- in a comfortable sort of silence, like he had no questions, no worries, everything cool at school. Ross heard a strange sort of clicking noise when Maddox worked his jaw, and didn’t know what it was until he remembered a tongue stud he’d seen when Maddox had his yap open talking, which seemed to be almost always. Except now. Why was that? Ross snuck a sideways glance at Maddox, and saw that Maddox had stopped watching the action. Instead he stared at Ross from less than a dick’s length away, his eyes a startling green shot through with starbursts of citrine surrounding the irises. Once caught, Ross couldn’t look away. His breathing quickened. Maddox stared at him, blatant, hiding nothing, searching deeper inside Ross’s head than Ross liked. A blink, and he retreated, leaving behind a heat and an intent that hit harder than a sucker punch.

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Anyone who worked at Twentysomething knew that look. Even if Ross hadn’t ever had it aimed his way before outside a scene, he had it memorized. Only he hadn’t known how it’d knock the breath out of a guy when it was directed his way, not like this. He could see it in Maddox’s stare, the knowledge of all the wicked things Maddox was thinking about. How he was already seeing Ross naked, sweat-slicked, spread for him. Dragging that tongue stud up Ross’s cock and over his balls. Pinning him down and licking him open. They were the same height, or near enough, but Maddox could overpower Ross in a hot heartbeat; Ross knew it for sure. It wasn’t a think he’ll do me? sort of questioning look. It was a I’m doing him until he begs for mercy stare. Ross hadn’t known Maddox for long, but he already knew enough to believe he’d do everything he promised with that look -- and more.

Chapter Two “Think you’ll get her running again?” Ross wiped his hands on a greasy rag so saturated with engine oil that he probably did more harm than good. “Hey, Aaron.” Aaron sat cross-legged beside Ross, head cocked to study the massive Harley chopper. “That monster could give a guy serious inadequacy issues.” “Maybe for a pipsqueak like you.” “Hey, he drinks his milk. Someday he’ll grow up big and strong and become a real boy.” Where Aaron went, Cody followed, fuzzy and blond and half-baked, or so Ross had thought before he’d learned Cody’s behavior was his natural default. Aaron scruffed Cody’s hair and looped a casual arm around his neck. Out of the two of them, Aaron looked younger and almost seemed naive until you looked into his eyes and listened to what he had to say, and saw that under that cute boyish face there was a mind as sharp as a steel trap. “Laugh it up, shorty,” Aaron told Cody, who grimaced and struggled to get free. “Shower, Aaron. How many times we gotta go through this?”

“Ignore him,” Aaron said. “Ross?”

Ross stroked the battered chrome on the chopper. “She doesn’t look like much

now, but give her time. She’ll surprise you.” “Good.” Cody had given up and rested his head on Aaron’s chest, perpetually half-lidded eyes sinking further closed. “Wanna ride that bad boy into the sunset.” “Yeah, right.” “Whoo! And he sinks another one!” Aaron and Cody looked up, while Ross winced and reached for a chamois purely for something to distract himself with.

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“And the crowd goes wild. Maddox for the motherfucking score, baby!”

Aaron shaded his eyes. “What the hell is he doing?”

“Kicking around a soccer ball, last I checked,” Ross said. He dropped the

chamois before he could soil it and lay on his back to study the chopper’s clogged exhaust. “Huh.” Cody rubbed his chin. “Kinda noisy. Dude just gets weirder by the day.” Aaron snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.” “Cody’s a little…” Ross started, then hesitated. “Cody’s a strange effing bird,” Cody volunteered. “Who, if he keeps talking about himself in the third person, is in for a trip to the woodshed,” Aaron told him. “Maybe so.” Ross sat, drawn despite himself to glance at Maddox. His hair was blue today and stuck up in sharp points and strange indigo angles. He wore a pair of cut-off track pants, not jeans, sandals, and nothing else. That was, if you didn’t count the alarming number of piercings and the thick black tribal tattoos that wound down his arms and his back, and on his abs. “Strange bird’s one way to put it. Cody’s a parakeet.” Cody jabbed him in the side. “Thanks a lot.”

“That was a compliment. Maddox’s more of a macaw.”

“You think you’ve got what it takes?” Maddox whooped. He jumped to the other

side of the soccer ball and kicked it toward the goal at the far end of the short field. “Take that, you son of a bitch.” He vaulted back and punted the ball toward the other end. “Oh, so you’re bringing your A game now, huh? Too late!” “Dude.” Cody squinted. “Is he playing both sides against himself?” “Yes.” Ross had been out there long enough to know for sure. Occasionally Maddox played referee-slash-umpire and the roaring crowd, too. He’d even heckled himself and thrown back some insults about the audience being goatfucking bastards. One hell of a show, but if Ross knew one thing for sure now it was this: Maddox wasn’t just strange. He was nuts.

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Aaron and Cody exchanged one of those weird silent looks that encompassed an entire conversation. Seemed to be the day for that. Aaron must have drawn the short straw, because he was the one to ask. “I hear you’re going to do scenes with him.” Ross chose a wrench with great care. “So I’m told.” “And you’re cool with that?” Ah, Cody. Blunter than a sawed-off baseball bat. “Pfft. Better you than me.” “Katherine wouldn’t have hired him if he wasn’t cool. I hear he’s done good work with some of the others. Knock it off with the judgmental attitude.” Aaron watched Maddox switch sides again, all the way to the goal line, where he cheered his victory over himself, then argued with the ref about interference. “Although…” “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Movement in the corner of Ross’s eye caught his attention. Thom, setting up discreet cameras in the field at the end not currently occupied by Maddox, checking light meters and shadows. “What’s up with that?” “Got me.” Aaron stood, dragging Cody with him. “Almost lunchtime. Wanna come in with us?” Ross hesitated. “Not yet, no. I don’t want to leave this half-finished.” “I’m eating your share of the pizza,” Cody informed Ross. “Aaron, let’s go. Dibs on the double anchovy.” Aaron shuddered. Ross had to chuckle and shake his head as they walked away, arm-in-arm, bickering back and forth like the long-time pals those two were. Weird? Yeah. Everyone around here had to be at least a little strange. “Halftime!” Maddox whooped. Only a little, Ross thought. He rose to a crouch, wrists on his knees, and watched Maddox in his peripheral vision. Was this spying? Could you spy on an exhibitionist attention whore? Probably.

***

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“Ross! Katherine says she wants to see you in fifteen,” Thom called from behind his camera. Ross grimaced. Less than ten feet away or not, he’d kinda hoped Maddox hadn’t noticed he was there. With a guy like Maddox, it could happen. Now, Maddox focused dead on him with a cockeyed smirk, an impish sparkle in his eye that boded no good. “Tell her I’ll be there,” he answered. Thom waved on his way out, cameras left in place but, thank God, not running. At least Ross didn’t think they were running. Who knew? Maybe Thom’d blacked out the LED lights. Maybe he was a skosh on edge. Ross rubbed the back of his neck and watched Maddox sideways. Wait, no. Hell with it. Ross had been here first. He might be feeding Maddox exactly what Maddox wanted, but he had balls and he was man enough to return fire. He stared at Maddox, waiting for whatever would cross his mind to do next. Maddox rolled his shoulders. He stood, stretched, almost on tiptoe, then sank into a crouch with one leg in front of him. “You look like a crane with joint problems,” Ross said. “Bah. I have mad skills.” Maddox nimbly switched legs. Looked like one of those Russian folk dances. Given that this was Maddox, likely it was and he had the “Hey! Hey! Hey!” crowd cheering in his head. Nuts. Maddox stretched his arms out, knuckles cracking, then slipped into the smoothest lotus position Ross had ever seen, and after working for Twentysomething for almost two years he’d seen a lot. Still, he had his pride. “Is that supposed to impress me?” “Nope.” Maddox turned his head sharply to the right. A loud pop made Ross hiss. Dude. Popping joints in your neck wasn’t a turn-on. Even if the angle did highlight the tattoos that ran from jaw to collarbone, darkly bold against the fairness of his complexion. “Why’d you get all the ink?” Ross asked. “Usually that counts against a guy

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looking to join the team.” “You guys need a little Rocky Road around here to balance out the vanilla.” Ross flashed back to images of what he -- and Maddox -- had seen Gabriel, Dylan and Brandon doing. His nuts still ached, and not in a fun way, when he thought about those sounds. Jesus Christ. “Vanilla?” he asked, disbelieving. “I didn’t say everyone here was vanilla. You’ve got Phish Food, Boston Cream Pie, Hothouse Strawberries, White Chocolate, Marzipan --” “Marzipan?” “Pretty much the same thing as white chocolate. Which, by the way, isn’t chocolate at all. Did you know that?” Maddox stretched out his arms and legs to bask in the sun. Actually, Ross hadn’t. “I’m a chocolate-covered-cherry kind of guy.” “Bzzt. Wrong. You, my friend, are pure, fresh snowfall base vanilla. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen you in action and there’s a whole lotta lovin’ going on. Consider me the nuts, banana and sprinkles with a cherry on top to make you a whole tasty sundae.” “Good luck with that.” The accusation still stung. Ross fucked on camera for a living. In what universe was that vanilla? “Don’t need luck if you’ve got talent and baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Ain’t seen n-n-n-nothing yet,” Maddox sang, playing air drums over his head. “Trust me. I’m one of a kind.” “That’s for damn sure,” Ross muttered. “What’s with all the questions?” Maddox fluttered his eyelashes and pressed his hand to his chest. “Why, sir. Don’t tell me I’ve piqued your interest,” he said, laying a Southern accent on thick and sloppy as coming while fucking bareback. “Whatever shall I do?” Ross didn’t like the sound of that. “How about sitting still for five minutes? Can you do that?” “Hell, no. I drove three primary school teachers to drink before I was ten years old. Seriously, though.” Maddox dropped to a crouch, copycatting Ross, and tilted his

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head in deliberate mirror reflection. Ross refrained from moving. Maddox would just do the same thing. He’d be the kind of guy who’d still think it was cute at twenty-something to play the echo game. Maddox chose now to develop a weird kind of Zen patience. “Be straight with me. Why do you ask?” “Why do you care?” Ross shot back, albeit with honest curiosity. “I’d have figured anything anyone else thought was the last thing you’d worry about.” Maddox cocked thumb and forefinger and made a kapow noise. “Already you’re getting to know me, and to know me is to love me.” “That remains to be seen.” Why did Maddox want to make him smile? Ross had to sink his teeth in his lower lip to hold it back, and holding it back was essential. Mustn’t encourage the tweaked-out parrot of a twink. “No use fibbing, my man. I’m a walking, talking lie detector.” Maddox casually untied the drawstring of his cut-off shorts and flapped the fabric. “Air flow. Nice. You should try it.” Ross deliberately did not look down at his grease-smeared jeans, his oldest and most raggedy pair; the ones he was uncomfortably aware now stretched tight over his ass and groin. “I’ll pass, thanks.” Maddox shrugged and lay down on his back, kicking his legs up to hook over imaginary shoulders. “You’re a hard nut to crack. Lucky me. I love a challenge.” “I’ll bet you do. Answer me one more thing. Why do you care if I’m trying to figure you out?” “I don’t. Have at it.” Maddox scratched his bare stomach, drawing attention to the jagged and spiked designs like starbursts around his navel. Pierced navel, of course. Was that a Bettie Page cameo stud? “Sooner you figure out you can’t figure me out, sooner we can get on to the good stuff.” “You live for giving people a hard time, don’t you?” “Nope. I live the way I like it. Anyone else objects, they can go fuck themselves.” “Anatomically impossible.” Ross regretted that the second he’d said it, especially

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since it made Maddox brighten like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “You think?” Maddox leered at him. “It’s not that hard. Watch this.” “You don’t have to prove anything to me. ‘Vanilla’ or not --” Ross added extra, annoyed emphasis to the word -- “odds are good you don’t have anything to show me that I haven’t already seen.” “You’d be surprised,” Maddox retorted. “Besides, you might have seen it all, but you still blush. It’s cute, the whole bashful thing. It’s a challenge.” Ross toyed with the wrench he’d almost forgotten in his hands. Not planning to use it for anything dangerous, hell no, but it was comforting to have something solid, normal and real to hang on to. “What are you doing, anyway?” “What’s it look like? Yoga.” Ross had figured as much, but his mouth didn’t seem to know when to stop running. “Do you do Pilates, too?” “I do a little bit of everything, and I’ll try anything once. If I like it, I’ll go back for second helpings, and if I love it, there’s no stopping me.” Maddox waggled his tongue at Ross. The silver stud flashed blinding as chrome in the light. “Didn’t that hurt?” Maddox rolled his eyes. “No. It was a wet dream of an experience. ‘Course it hurt. Worth it, though. Also, I walked around wincing like a new mother for days when I first tried this, but baby, some kinds of pain are worth their weight in niobium.” “When you first tried -- whoa.” The wrench fell forgotten to the grass between Ross’s feet. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. Who would? Not too surprising, then, that Maddox pulled it off without breaking a sweat. Slowly, Maddox raised himself into a from-the-shoulders headstand that should have broken his neck for real, but didn’t. He eased his legs down until his knees touched the grass, slid them back, and grinned cheekily at Ross from between his own thighs. “Dude, you should see your face right now.” “I -- fuck me -- you --” Ross sputtered. “Your nose is almost mashed up on your

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balls. That can’t be worth the muscle cramps.” “No?” Maddox’s shorts hadn’t survived the twisting trek all too well. A wriggle that should have been impossible, and he was mooning the field in general without a hint of a blush. The move freed his cock, and apparently extreme yoga did things for Maddox that being twisted like a pretzel wouldn’t for anyone sane. Ross gripped his hands, one in the other, sluggishly sticky with engine grease. Did Maddox have piercings everywhere? Yes. Yes, he did. A hoop through the head of his dick, a couple in his balls, and a tattoo that spread from one side of his V-cut to the other. And, okay, he had a nice dick. A great dick, if Ross was going to be honest with himself. Long, with a curve that confused his screwed perception, but which he decided would rise up. A fucktool of a dick, one that hit the prostate like it’d been made to zero in on that spot. Still crouching, Ross shifted his weight to ease the abrupt rise of his own cock. He refused to adjust himself and draw attention. How did Maddox manage the blood flow for a hard-on like that bent the way he was? “Practice,” Maddox said, alarming Ross into thinking Maddox had read his mind before Maddox waggled his eyebrows at Ross. “Doesn’t hurt that I have something mighty pretty to look at.” “Your own dick?” “Nope. You.” That took Ross aback. Rendered him momentarily speechless, and Maddox knew it, too. And where Maddox saw a chink in a guy’s armor, he took immediate advantage. “If you think that’s something, you should see this. S’why I learned this position in the first place.” Though he had to grab his thighs and force them further apart, Maddox managed to -“Holy fuck,” Ross blurted. He sat down hard, flat on his ass. “That’s not possible.”

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Maddox closed his eyes in bliss as he licked almost delicately around the head of his own cock. “No? Sure feels real from where I’m tied up.” He caught a thin thread of precome on his tongue and licked his lips. “Mmm. Nothing like home-grown.” Ross made a small sound that he would one hundred percent deny later was a whimper, and checked his jerk forward, wanting to get his hands on that. Good God. Okay, now he saw why Katherine had hired Maddox, for this if nothing else. He wasn’t alone in his amazed commendation. Whispers, murmurs, and stifled exclamations of “holy shit, dude” signaled the audience they’d gathered. Ross had a feeling that after this, bizarre hair and bristling piercings or not, Maddox was gonna be the number-one hot ticket on the in-house request line. “Like what you see?” Maddox’s voice had started to change, his lungs too compressed to hold the pose much longer, but the boy had stamina enough to make it last. He sealed his lips around the head of his cock and sucked, cheeks hollowing. Ross revised his estimation of Maddox’s dick size up by about two inches. Only when he swallowed did Ross realize his mouth had been watering. “No,” he lied. “I’m just waiting for you to break your neck so I can stand over your cooling body and say ‘I told you so’.” “But you didn’t.” “No? Okay, here goes: you’re going to break your fucking neck this way.” “Ah, ye of little faith.” Maddox sucked his dick again and let go with an amazingly loud, ball-tingling wet pop. “Put your eyes back in your head, dude. You can’t seriously tell me you’ve never tried this before. Or at least that you’ve never thought about it.” “I’m a guy. Fantasies like that are coded into our DNA. Actually managing it --” “I could teach you.” The arm Ross had propped himself on gave way at the elbow joint; he thumped down fully on his side. “Pass,” he said, swallowing again. Maddox’s nimble tongue did good work. He was harder now, fuller, and Ross had seen precome before, but not like this.

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God, he wanted his mouth around that cock. Ached with a teeth-gritting hunger to untangle Maddox, hold his hips down, and suck him dry. More, his cock throbbed where it was trapped between thigh and way-too-tight jeans. What would that tongue stud feel like lashing over his cock? Good, too-good, painful? If he didn’t find out -- now -- he’d explode. Ross started to raise up, meaning to crawl to Maddox -- and stopped. Where had that come from? A sideways glance told him there were six, maybe seven guys watching. He thought he saw Thom among them. Heat warmed his cheeks, and he looked down at his hands. “Vanilla with a dash of strawberry,” Maddox teased. He licked his dick one last time and raised his legs high. The shorts slipped down over his hips, though they caught on the jut of his cock, and he lifted himself into a full handstand. He “walked” five steps on his hands, tucked, rolled, and came up with his arms over his head. “Tonight, we dine in hell! I am Spartacus!” Ross thumped down on his back and groaned. He covered his eyes. “Cut that out.” Maddox was suddenly standing over Ross, tucked away even if he was sporting an impressive tent in his shorts, his hand outstretched to give Ross a lift up. Ross took the hand -- he needed the help -- and stood, only to be dragged into a hearty hug complete with manly slaps to the back. Caught in the embrace, the smells of grass and sunlight and sex and the friction of his hands skimming over smooth, sweatdampened muscle all suffused his senses and took his breath away. Maddox cocked an eyebrow at Ross, cheekily daring him to bitch about it. Ross took the bait. He couldn’t not. “You hugged me.” “So I did.” “Who does that?” “I dunno. Let me see. What has two thumbs and couldn’t give less of a fuck about toeing made-up bullshit lines?” Maddox jerked both thumbs at himself and blazed a grin at Ross. “This guy.”

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Yep. Ross knew more about Maddox now than he had before when he’d reached this conclusion, but it still held true. Maddox was certifiable. He believed what Maddox had to say, every word of it, too. “Looking forward to getting my hands on you,” Maddox said, eye-fucking Ross from nipples to toes. He gave good eye sex. “And every other part of me. You ever had full-body sex?” A veteran of Twentysomething, Ross knew a lot about fucking, but he didn’t have a clue what Maddox meant by that. Odds were good it was something that’d frighten nuns. Didn’t matter to his cock, which surged up fully hard. He covered it with his palm. “Katherine wanted to see me.” Maddox shrugged, smoky seduction gone in an instant. Gone, but not forgotten. “Cool. Tell her I said hi. You and me, we’ll finish this later. Soon.” Yeah. Ross believed that, too. And now, he was starting to think he was looking forward to it.

Chapter Three “Whoa!” Ross was a big guy, six-foot-one of tough working-man’s muscle, and not easy to knock down, but Thom nearly managed it as he stalked out of Katherine’s office. Ross would have said he looked a little intense, but that would have been like saying the sun was a little warm, or Maddox was a little odd. Not that you’d even notice it if you didn’t know the guy inside out, but… “Thom, you okay?” “Excuse me,” Thom said curtly, not even stopping to look back. Jeez. The sky would be falling next. Ross hesitated, torn between going after Thom, who was a good guy after all, and going in to face Katherine, who might or might not be similarly irked after whatever had gone down in there. Katherine put a stop to his deliberation by pulling her office door open wider. “There you are. Come in. I wondered if you’d been delayed.” “You could say that,” Ross muttered. He’d had to stop in one of the staff bathrooms and take the pressure off before he could face Katherine without wriggling in his chair the whole time. He’d tried not to think about Maddox’s lips wrapped around his dick and the look of bliss on his face, but that’d worked about as well as trying to put out a bonfire with a teaspoonful of kerosene. Ross couldn’t remember the last time he’d shot that hard; he’d splattered himself with a ricochet off the toilet seat. Just thinking about it brought the telltale color back to his cheeks. Nothing looked dumber than a guy filming in nothing but socks, a hard-on and a smile. Ross could tell you that for sure. Blushing this easy after two years of flashing the goods to an internet audience came in as a photo finish in the idiot’s race. He took a seat in the guest chair, folded his hands over his stomach, and waited for Katherine to make her move.

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Nothing fazed Katherine, or if it did, she was a master at not letting it show. Calm as a summer’s day, she looked Ross in the eye and said, “It’s come to my attention that Maddox has developed a habit of propositioning you. I’ve also been reminded that I haven’t yet spoken to you about Maddox. At the least I should have warned you before his arrival that Maddox can come as something of a shock to the unprepared.” “That’s one way to put it,” Ross said, slightly more indignant than he’d meant. “Sorry.” “No, not at all. I accept full responsibility.” “Wait.” Ross sat up straighter. “You’re not firing him, are you?” “No,” Katherine said. “Unless you know of any reason why I should?” Ross scrubbed his hand over his face, growled when he remembered he still had streaks of engine grease on his hands, and resigned himself to letting that go. “Not that I know of.” A thought occurred. “Is there something you know that I don’t?” “Possibly.” Katherine focused intently on Ross. “I believe Thom told you earlier that Maddox specifically requested you as a partner in his first videos here. Are you all right with that?” She tapped the capped end of her pen on a crisp new contract centered neatly in the middle of her desk. “You know we’re happy to have you spend your off time here working on the bike. If you don’t want to work with Maddox, we won’t ask again. If you do, we’ll need your signature accepting this commission.” Commission of emission. Never failed to blow Ross’s mind. He reached for the pen, then drew back. “Can I ask something first?” Katherine gestured at him in a “go ahead” way. “If he hadn’t asked, would you have considered putting us together?” “Yes,” Katherine answered without blinking. “Ross, you’re our -- how should I put this -- our ‘All American.’ A fine upstanding example of heartland masculinity. Whereas Maddox --” “Looks like he’s from Mars,” Ross said. Katherine didn’t disagree. “The two of you together are -- would be -- visually striking, and I think our viewers would be more than pleased at seeing the kind of

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chemistry you have.” “What chem -- there is no chemistry,” Ross protested. “Not yet, anyway.” “You’d be surprised,” Katherine murmured. Ross made up his mind. He wasn’t a wimp; besides, like hell was he letting Maddox win this strange fucked-up game with ever-changing rules between them. “Give me the pen. I’ll sign.” Katherine pinned the contract down and wouldn’t let go before Ross looked at her. “There’s one more thing you need to be aware of. You’ll have noticed Thom setting up cameras around the field?” “Hard not to.” “Maddox is, as you might expect, something of a naturalist.” She cleared her throat. “As well as flexible.” “Slinkys aren’t that flexible,” Ross said. “Which, as you’ve guessed, is another reason we want to retain his services. He does, however, prefer spontaneity.” “Meaning…” Ross let that one trail off. “Meaning he’d rather eliminate every possible trace of sets and lighting as he can and simply go with the moment as the moment presents himself.” “Ah.” Ross rolled that over. “So basically I wait outside for him to get an itch and tackle me to scratch it?” “You can change your mind, Ross. No one will think less of you for turning this down. It’s not something I’d expect anyone to accept without serious thought.” Yeah, well, Ross had tried that, and he’d already seen how far that got him. Not to mention… hell. He couldn’t get Maddox out of his head, the sight of his dick curving into his own mouth, the snap-crackle-and-pop of his unpredictable energy. I’m hot for him, I can get that. We’ll work out the rest as it comes. “Give me the pen,” he said for the second time, firmer still in his decision. “I’m a big boy. I can do this. I’ll sign.”

*** One hallway. Four doors, two on either side. Three were closed, with discreet yet

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somehow bragging lights blinking over them signaling that filming was going on inside. Ross guessed no one felt like public performances today. Huh. He eyed the closed doors, then the open one. Carefully, he crossed to the side of the hall with both closed doors and crept along the wall. He’d wouldn’t put it past Maddox to lurk inside the open door, ready to leap upon any unsuspecting passerby. Well, no. Not any passerby. Ross. Maddox lay in wait in the shadows of the empty room; Ross fucking knew he did. Almost there. Five feet to go and he’d be out of the danger-slash-annoyance zone. Just because he’d signed up to film didn’t mean he wanted to do it right now. A guy had to work up some steam, right? And the self-fellatio routine earlier didn’t get you hot and bothered? Yeah, right, Ross scoffed at himself. Whatever, he rebutted, and crept silent as a mouse down the hallway. Almost… there… The back of his hand brushed the latch of one of the closed doors, jarred him, and was so suddenly gone that Ross twisted about to gape, confused. Whereupon Maddox, grinning like the devil himself on a really good day, hooked Ross by the forearm and yanked him inside. “I should have known.” “You so should have.” Maddox eased behind Ross and elbowed the door closed. “Pretty sneaky, though, huh? C’mon, you’ve gotta give a guy some love for that.” Ross would not smile. He would not. But he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Maddox. “You love it.” Maddox leaned against the door, facing Ross, smirking. “So, you talked to Katherine? What’d she have to say?” “None of your business.” Ross’s objection came automatically. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a private guy. Since when is that a crime?” “Crime, no. I have ways --” “If you say you have ways of making me talk, I’ll punch you in the nose.” Maddox hooted. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, making Ross

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wonder how old he was. Closer to thirtysomething than twentysomething, or had he been in such a wacko mood for so long that he’d worked up smile lines long before his time? “You got me there. Okay, I’ll start again. It’s not a crime, hell no. But I figure what Katherine wanted to talk to you about was me, and if that’s the case I’ve got a right to know. We can play it like a Magic 8-Ball if you want. Signs point to yes, or no?” Was there even a point in fighting back? Probably not. Ross exhaled heavily and leaned on the wall perpendicular to Maddox. He tucked his chin down. Not sulking. Brooding. Much more mature. “Yes.” “Awesome. And? No, let me guess. She gave you the whole run-down on ‘he’s nuts,’ which you already knew, and ‘are you sure you want to do this,’ which I already know you’re way too proud to back down from, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah. Am I right so far?” Ross nodded stiffly, though that stiffness was easing and that damn smile kept trying to lift the corner of his mouth. “Yes.” “Bitchin’.” The soberness that erased Maddox’s smile lines made for a shock like sticking your finger in a light socket. “Now tell me if you were being honest, or if you were just adding a coat of bronze to your balls.” Ross swallowed down a hard knot. “I don’t know.”

“Mmm.” Maddox stroked his chin. “See, I got to thinking.”

“Oh, God.”

“Hush. Don’t interrupt the master at work.” Maddox pushed off the door and

crept toward Ross. Barely three feet separated them but he took it slow enough to make it a good, lazy slink, and he gave as good a slink as he gave eye sex. “Want to know what I thought about? Ice cream sundaes.” Ross’s brain skipped a beat. “Come again?”

“Oh, I plan to. Several times.”

“What the fuck is your fixation with ice cream?”

Maddox wrapped thumb and forefinger around Ross’s wrist, grunted in

approval when they didn’t meet, and rested the pad of his thumb on Ross’s pulse.

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“Beating like a jackrabbit,” he said -- almost purred. “Ice cream sundaes. What’re they made of?” Ross thought he saw where this was going, but God help him he couldn’t keep from following along. “Two scoops of vanilla ice cream.” “And a banana.” Maddox molded his palm over Ross’s rigid cock and rubbed him, light enough to be a tease, firm enough to make Ross grunt, to make it an effort not to push forward. Or maybe that was all on Maddox’s being so close to him, his smell and the heat of his skin dizzyingly tempting. “Look what I found. A prime example.” “Cute.” “Cute is my specialty. So you take vanilla ice cream, you add a banana, and then you get to the good stuff. Hot fudge, nuts, a cherry on top. It goes in layers, one by one.” Maddox bent to mouth the base of Ross’s neck. Goddamn, the tongue stud was as amazing as Ross had dreamed of. Cold, then hot, hard and foreign and making him shudder. “So you’re saying, what?” Ross took Maddox by the back of his neck to guide him and tipped his own head back to give Maddox access. The nape wasn’t as good; Ross would have gone for the hair if he hadn’t thought he’d cut himself on those spikes. “You’re gonna break me in one treat at a time?” “Knew you could learn.” “And is this where it starts?” Though Ross’s eyes were heavy-lidded and his vision blurred when Maddox slid down his zipper and reached inside to wrap his hand around Ross’s dick, he searched for any tell-tale cameras. “I signed. This is filming, right? Maddox Overpowers Ross, Part One.” “Shh.” Maddox pressed his forefinger, slick with Ross’s precome, to Ross’s lips. “You talk too much, dude.” “I talk --” Maddox chortled. “You should see your face, man. Classic. No filming. Not now. And please notice we’re inside. I don’t do four walls.” He’d found Ross’s favorite spot, drawn to it like a magnet. Dragged his

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thumbnail across the slit on Ross’s cockhead and made Ross groan and grit his teeth. “Consider this a peace offering,” Maddox said. “What?” “I said, shh.” Maddox’s lips were on his, soft and full, the flicker of his tongue stud stroked once over Ross’s. He disappeared so suddenly Ross wondered if he’d outand-out vanished before he sensed the pressure of a firm grasp on his hips and looked down to see Maddox on his knees. “Peace offering,” Maddox explained again, licked Ross’s cock, and drew it deep into his mouth. Ross’s back hit the wall. “Son of a --” Maddox drew off with the filthiest, most mouth-watering sound Ross had known in his time at Twentysomething, saliva and precome shiny on his lips. He licked them clean, and with wicked intent glittering in his eyes, ducked his head lower. “Whaddya know?” His breath was hot on Ross’s balls. “I already found some nuts for garnish.” “You -- oh, fuck.” Ross’s head hit the wall with a thud when Maddox sucked Ross’s balls in his mouth, first one, then the other, then underneath. Ross shoved his fist in his mouth and bit down not to let loose with a yell that’d echo against the walls when Maddox’s tongue stud tickled behind his balls, a steady, wet stroke with extra kick. “Hell yeah,” Maddox crooned. He held Ross’s hips steady. Ross figured he’d have bruises the next day from the force Maddox used to keep him still. “Toppy little bastard, aren’t you?” Ross meant it as scornful, but somewhere along the way he flashed on a visual of Maddox atop him, sliding that pierced cock balls-deep inside. “Oh, God.” “Good thing, too.” Maddox tickled his way around to draw his finger down the crack of Ross’s ass. “You like it on the bottom,” he said, gloatingly confident. Bastard. “Love it when someone’s plowing your ass. Get off on being split open and pounded hard, don’t you?” Ross’s cock surged up. Maddox caught it in his mouth and worked him but good. He could take Ross almost all the way in, the sleek flat of his tongue and the

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pressure of the stud driving Ross crazy. “That’s my boy.” Maddox rubbed his spit and Ross’s precome along the length of Ross’s cock, licked it clean, and went back for more. Ross did not come this fast. Never without reciprocating. He didn’t do the unsatisfied customer thing. Maddox might make him break that rule. “Could make it last for hours, if you wanted,” Maddox taunted, low and confident. Ross didn’t doubt him. He didn’t know if it would be torture or the best sex ever. Probably both. Ross had to wet his lips before he could talk. His stomach muscles bunched and his hips jerked, wanting nothing more than to face-fuck Maddox’s dirty-talking mouth. “Are you going to? Make it last?” Maddox kitten-licked Ross’s balls. “Not this time. Next time, though, next time I’m turning you over and licking you open until you’re begging me to fuck you.” Ross would have introduced his fist to anyone else’s face for that. Would have. Didn’t now. He couldn’t move with Maddox’s lips, tongue and teeth driving him out of his mind. “You want begging, you’re not far off,” he said, voice cracking. “I know.” Maddox suckled Ross’s dick, humming with what could only be called bliss. Made Ross feel better, somehow. He might be a bottom, but Maddox was a cockhound. Good to know a weakness, even if -Ross’s stomach cramped. He surged forward, then slammed back, almost embarrassing himself. His jeans still clung to his hips, for fuck’s sake, nothing open but his fly, his boxers hooked under his balls. “You don’t want me to come right now, you’d better quit it,” he warned Maddox. “Who said I didn’t want that?” Maddox nuzzled Ross’s balls while he jerked open the drawstring of his crazy shorts and wiggled to send them sliding down his hips. His cock jutted out dark and proud and -- fuck -- longer than Ross had thought. Thick, too. Fat and heavy. A monster. As Ross stared, heavy-lidded, unable to look away, Maddox took himself in hand and started to jerk himself off with quick, rough strokes. “I got this one,” he said,

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drawing his tongue up the underside of Ross’s cock. “Like I said, peace offering. Let it come, I want it. All over my face, hot stuff.” He worked Ross’s cock with his free hand, only a taste and a tease of a lick on the upstroke while he jacked himself in tandem. Sex flush spread down Maddox’s chest and his breathing sped up. “Close, man, so close. You almost there?” Ross couldn’t lie. “Yes.” “That’s it,” Maddox crooned. He took Ross further down. The halt confused Ross until smooth constriction tightened around his cockhead. Oh, fuck, so this was what deep-throating felt like; he should have known, he -Maddox released him, cackling. “Sex-talker. Who’d have thought?” “Shut up and suck.” “You’re lucky I like bossy bottoms.” Maddox sighed, deep and satisfied and eager, and got back to work. Ross looked down. Had to see this. Maddox’s pink lips wrapped around his cock, eyes shut tight in bliss, dark lashes fanning shadows on his cheeks, sun-darkened skin damp with sweat and piercings shining-bright. “Fucking hate your hair,” he blurted, trying to find purchase and gaining absolutely none amidst the gelled-to-death dyed mess. “You like that, huh?” Maddox blew streams of cool-then-warm air over Ross’s wet dick. “Like to grab a guy’s head and hold him still so you can fuck his face? I can take you further down than that, big man. Top my face any time you want.” “Shut -- up,” Ross begged. He could feel it, the orgasm, tightening into a burning knot. Almost there, almost there, almost -Maddox stuck a finger in his mouth beside Ross’s cock, getting it good and wet, and slid around to stroke between Ross’s ass cheeks. The tip of that finger pushed in to the second knuckle. Ross froze, shaking on the edge. Maddox crooked his finger up. “Fuck you,” Ross gasped. He grabbed his own hair and pulled hard enough to sting tears to his eyes.

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“Come on, baby. Come for me.” Maddox stroked deeper, harder, and that was it. Ross burst, or that’s what it felt like, a thousand years worth of pressure jolting from his balls out his cockhead. Maddox caught the first splash on his tongue, then tilted his head back to let the rest land on his face, dollops of thick come that ran down his cheekbones and over his cocksucking lips. Maddox cried out and shuddered down, the whole of his body wrenched tight. His come splattered the floor. Fuck, he was a shooter. Splashed Ross’s ankle and the top of his foot. Maddox hung on to Ross’s hip for dear life, making uhn, uhn, uhn sounds until he’d wrung himself dry, then dug his fingers in tighter to keep from face planting. He gleamed with sweat like a horse after a race, his gelled hair askew, his lips swollen and puffy and his grin lazy as a well-fed cat’s. “That’s what I call a peace offering.” “Uh-huh,” Ross said, still too dazed and orgasm-stupid to listen or care. Maddox stood on rubbery legs and kissed Ross hard, wet, deep, feeding traces of his own taste back to him. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful working relationship, don’t you?” “Uh,” Ross said. What did I just agree to? Probably nothing good. Hell with it. As long as I get some more of this, I don’t care if I just sold my soul to Lucifer.

Chapter Four “Thom?” “Hmm?” Thom didn’t so much as look up from his bank of computers, switches, dials, levers, the red phone -- God knew what he had in there. Ross’s only experience with cameras were the kinds you told the clowns on the other end to “say cheese” into before he snapped a pic. Nine times out of ten if you let him Thom would calmly and peacefully talk a guy to death about light meters and depth of angle and things that generally sounded a lot like Esperanto after ten-odd seconds of not understanding a damn thing he was talking about. This time, Thom kept his trap shut. Firmly. His lips were pressed into a firm line. Ross studied him and came to the conclusion that gentle Thom had turned into a ticking time bomb, all the scarier for the near-hush of the timer. “You okay?” Ross asked, well aware he was poking a tiger without the benefit of a cage to keep him safe, but c’mon, he couldn’t not at least try to offer a hand. Thom kept his attention diverted elsewhere. “I’m fine, thank you.” Ross craned his neck to look over Thom’s shoulder, curiosity compelling him to see if there was any clue there as to what’d crawled up Thom’s ass. All he saw was the playback of Skyler’s solo vid. Not that the newbie wasn’t a sweet little piece of ass who knew how to make himself feel good and make it look fantastic on camera. Skyler had a way of staring heavy-lidded at the lens while he felt himself up, moaned, groaned, writhed, basically everything short of actually setting the sheets on fire. Not the same kind of “whoa, damn,” action Gabriel, Dylan and Brandon worked, but if you got too close to that you’d still burn your hands. Thom’s back stiffened. “You’re in my light.”

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Ross let it go. “Forget I asked.” “I will.” Thom jabbed a button and the display went dark. “Is there something you wanted? Otherwise I’m busy.” “Kinda freaked about you, but not talking about it, cross my heart.” “Maybe you’d think about going to take a shower. You’re ripe.” Ross’s eyebrows climbed. “Since when do you mind that?” Thom growled. “Okay, okay. Jesus.” Ross rubbed the back of his neck and tried to figure a graceful segue, or at least a decent exit line. He glanced at the doorway of the control room to measure the distance he’d have to leap in a single bound if push came to shove, and happened to look through the one-way mirror to the room beyond. Maddox stood inside, hands pressed to the glass, mouth too, blowing hard and puffing his cheeks out. He’d crossed his eyes and waggled his ears. Ross tried his damnedest to turn his startled laugh into a cough. Swear to God, he did. Didn’t exactly work. Thom ground his teeth and turned that pissed-off glare at Ross. “Either spit it out or leave me be to work in peace.” Ross could still see Maddox mugging through the one-way mirror, and keeping a straight face wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but he managed it. Just. “Needed to know if you caught what went down before in studio three.” “What went down when?” Thom bristled like a porcupine. “Goddamn it, why do people fucking insist on -- wait, no. Maddox, right? Got you when you weren’t looking and no, neither was I.” Thom sat back in his chair with a furious sulk that actually did good things for the jut of his jaw. Lucky bastard. “No. I didn’t get that on film, and now I’ll have to explain why. Thanks.” “Sorry.” Ross fidgeted in place. What the hell. Might as well go for broke. “All I wanted to know is where are the Johnny-on-the-spot remote cameras set up?” He snuck a peek sideways and, to his disappointment, saw that Maddox had vanished. Maybe it was kinda important to get that info from Thom now, because Ross

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seriously doubted Maddox was the come-once-and-that’s-it sort of guy. Thom grunted, seeming somewhat mollified. He rolled his shoulders to ease out some of the tension. “Pretty much everywhere that isn’t one of the studios.” “Which means?” “The pool room. The game rooms, all of them, billiards and cards and pinball machines, God help us. The sports lawn. Everywhere.” Fuck. Ross hadn’t known Thom had that in him. Now that he did, he was never, ever taking a chance on getting on Thom’s bad side. Curiosity regarding what the hell had happened drove Ross close to crazy, but he kept his trap shut. The motorcycle he itched to get his hands on rested at the far end of the sports lawn, and he was fairly sure he knew where Maddox would strike next. Though it risked having his arm snapped off at the wrist, Ross tried a friendly pat on Thom’s shoulder. He was glad he did. The fight melted out of Thom at the simple touch. He slumped forward, nodded once, and reached up to clasp Ross’s hand. “Go on, now. Get on with whatever you’re planning next.” He cued up the video of the kid setting the sheets afire and stared at it. A strange sort of cool, firm calm settled into Thom’s expression, his eyes going glassily unreadable and his focus as intense as the cocky challenge the twinkie on screen emanated. “He’s giving you trouble, huh?” Ross understood now. And marveled. Nothing got to Thom, except apparently whoever this was. “That he is.” Thom stroked the edges of the screen, that scary calm hardening to marble-like immobility. There was a dark gleam to him that freaked Ross more than a little. Oh. Ross remembered now why Thom had been so popular back in the day and why he’d gone without a fight from in front of the camera to behind the scenes. If people thought mild-mannered Bruce Banner’s transformation into the Hulk was scary… Whoever this kid was, he’d better watch the fuck out. Odds were he didn’t know

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Thom had started out on the other side of the camera, and that Thom had been the one to break guys in. Literally. Dominating in a glassy-calm way that either snapped them or sent them crawling after his heels, panting for a taste of more. Ross winced. If no one got that through to the newbie before Thom got hold of him, they were in for some interesting times. “Your man’s already on the sports lawn, by the way,” Thom said, implacably flicking switches. “Naked. Unless you want to share him with someone else, I’d suggest you get a move on.” Snap decision time. Probably safe enough; Ross could search out the newbie later. Like hell was he letting anyone get a crack at Maddox before he’d satisfied his thirst. “I owe you one,” Ross called back as he made a break for it. He thought he heard Thom growl again, but he couldn’t be sure. Damn, he hoped someone warned Skyler in time.

*** Maddox was indeed waiting for Ross on the sports lawn. Naked. On his back with one knee crossed over the over, idly kicking his foot, his arms tucked behind his head. He gleamed with metal and the dark shadows of tattoos. Playful, in an eat-yourface kind of way. Half a dozen of the guys, most of the ones who’d watched Maddox play contortionist earlier, were gathered around the sidelines trying to be cool about keeping it to casual observation. Maybe Maddox had warned them off, or maybe they wanted, even more than a crack at Maddox, to watch him and Ross in action. Normally Ross would have done an about-face and gone back inside. Talk about your performance anxiety, right? Not this time. Hell, no. Ross pushed through the crowd, already pulling his shirt off over his head. He tossed it back at Cody, who caught it and pushed the cloth to his face, breathing deep. “Perv.” Maddox watched Ross’s approach, a lazy smirk quirking his mouth and one of his eyebrows arched into a triangle. “So he can learn. Give the man a cherry on top.” “Not what I had in mind.” Ross stood over Maddox, straddling him from a

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standing position. He unbuckled his belt and let his jeans drop to crumple around his ankles. Leave it to Maddox to focus on something besides Ross’s already-hard, alreadyleaking cock. He tickled the top of Ross’s bare foot, the spot where his come had splashed Ross’s sneaker earlier, and ran his tongue over his lips. “Damn. Not only can he learn, but he’s a teacher’s pet, isn’t he?” “Talk about me like I’m a dog again and I’ll end you.” “Promises, promises.” Maddox wriggled free easily and sat up, knees wide apart, braced on his arms. “Gonna put your money where your mouth is?” “This has nothing to do with money.” “Yeah? Then what’s it all about?” “You’ll see.” Ross kicked free of his tangled, cumbersome jeans and punted them aside. Naked, hard, and not giving a damn for once about who was watching, he knelt to almost-straddle Maddox. Maddox clued in fast. Ross could get to appreciating that about him. “Lap dance? You kinky fuck.” He drew his nails lightly down Ross’s back. Ross shuddered and sighed. “Make a bet with you.” “Oh, yeah?” Hard to do with no hands free, but Ross worked his hips and painted Maddox’s abs with a streak of wetness seeping from his cockhead. His dick hurt, sore from coming his brains out, but did that stop him from being ready to fire off like a cannon again? Hell, no. Maddox had the kind of control monks would envy. Horny, sex-crazed, gay monks. Which, as Ross recalled, wasn’t all that unusual. Maddox raised his knees to jolt Ross into a better seat. “Whoever comes first has to be the other’s bitch for a day.” “Thought we already established I like to bottom.” Ross sank slowly down. Maddox’s cock, as hard as his, glided through the crack of his ass and caught, briefly, on the puckered hole. “Damn. Maybe I misjudged you.” Maddox’s grin broke out. “Nah. I never call

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anyone wrong. Bet, revised. Whoever comes first owes the other a sexual favor of their choice, anytime, anywhere.” “You’re so fucking on,” Ross said. He could be a tricky bastard, too, and he’d hoped Maddox would say something just like that. He’d prepared in advance, and the element of surprise -- hell, yes. The cost of a fresh bottle of good-quality lube: ten dollars. The approximate paidby-the-hour rate of fifteen minutes spent in the bathroom stretching himself open with fingers and plug: probably about six-dollars-fifty-cents. Bribing Aaron to watch the door and make sure no one interrupted him: twenty bucks. Bribing Cody to keep his mouth shut: twenty-one dollars. Maddox rendered momentarily speechless, wide-eyed and slack-jawed with shock when Ross slipped on the condom he’d palmed and sank down on his dick, taking it all in one go? Priceless. There were some things money couldn’t buy, all right, and one of them was the sweet taste of victory. Ross pushed Maddox’s shoulders, whooping with excitement when Maddox’s arms gave way and he collapsed on his back. He rode Maddox all the way down and rode his dick like he was on a horse headed for the border two steps ahead of the law. Ross might not have all Maddox’s pizzazz, but if there was one thing he knew it was how to fuck himself on a dick and send both guys involved straight to heaven. Didn’t hurt -- God, did it not ever hurt, except in the fantastic way that the massive size of Maddox’s cock stretched him wider than even the plug -- that the thick metal ring pierced through the slit and head of Maddox’s dick stroked firm and foreign and deep and -The ring nailed Ross’s sweet spot and knocked the breath out of him. Ross lost his grip on Maddox. “Holy fuck,” was all he had time to gasp before Maddox whooped, fucked up once as rough as a bucking bronco, wrapped his arms around Ross’s waist. Maddox surged up, over, flexibility keeping him lodged deep in Ross’s ass all the

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way, and suddenly Ross was the one on his back with his legs wrapped around Maddox’s ass, hanging on for dear sweet life. Someone shouted off in the distance, hoarse yells and obscenities that’d make a sailor blush. Oh, wait. That’s me. Who could blame him? Not anyone who’d ever known what it was like to have a Prince Albert grinding their prostate like a hammer on steroids. Anyone who’d watched, eyes clouded with driving lust, Maddox bending them in half and fucking like he’d drive Ross on his back clear across the lawn. “God, God, oh my God,” Ross babbled. He threw his arms over his head and gripped his wrists, then down to try and scrabble a handhold in the green grass and the dirt. “Jesus Christ, Maddox, you --” Maddox lunged down and shut Ross’s mouth, eating the noise out of him. He tapped his tongue stud against Ross’s hard palate, rat-a-tat-tat, drilling his ass just as fast. Ross squeezed his thighs rock-hard around Maddox’s waist and hung on. Roaring loud and rushing hot through his ears, his dick, his whole body, the orgasm came on too quick and strong to be stopped. Ross grabbed his cock at the last second and jerked that last smoking-hot stroke before he arched up, howling, and came over his chest. He smeared the come over his nipples, too damn boneless and fucked-out to care about anything -- except Maddox with his eyes shut and his teeth set in his lower lip. He hitched Ross’s legs higher, fucked deeper, red from cheeks to thighs with the effort. His tattoos moved and flexed, almost seeming alive over the rippling of his muscle. Over and over he chanted “fuck, fuck, fuck” and drove deep like he wanted to split Ross in two. Ross was already learning Maddox’s tells. He knew, exactly when Maddox started to shudder and his strokes got choppy, that he was almost there. He seized Maddox by the wrist and gripped hard enough to hurt, to startle him to attention. He ran his tongue over his teeth and lifted his chin. “Come on my face again. I want some more.” “Fuck you.” Maddox jerked out. Ross barely had time to groan at the roughness

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of the tug and the instant emptiness before Maddox snatched off his condom and crawled, awkward but still hot as hell, up to Ross’s face. He drew the sticky-wet, readyto-explode tip of his cock over Ross’s lips, down his nose, across his forehead. The devil made Ross do it. He stiffened his tongue to a point and tapped Maddox’s dick. Once. Then he opened his mouth to put out that tongue and curve it like a cup. And, for good measure, he grabbed Maddox’s ass cheeks and gripped as tight as he could to leave his own bruises marking Maddox up. Maddox’s pupils blew wide, almost no iris left. He looked impressed. Proud. Twisted up in the fan-fucking-tastic gorgeousness of crossing the finish line. Ross caught Maddox’s come on his tongue, thick and salty, and went after him like a baby bird wanting more. He nursed Maddox’s cock and kept going long after a normal guy would be too sore and smack him away. Maddox, though, he rode through it, not going soft. He might have face-fucked Ross, and probably would have, if his shaking legs hadn’t surrendered. He slid back and pitched forward, head next to Ross’s, nose in the grass. “You learn fast,” he rasped in Ross’s ear. “This is gonna be more fun than even I figured.” Ross sure as hell hoped so. Behind them, he could hear the gathered crowd applauding, whooping, hollering and wolf-whistling. “Grade A!” Cody cheered, followed by Brandon’s, “I wanna try that!”, followed by Gabriel’s root-root-root stadium bellow, followed by Thom saying, “Cut.” Ross shut his eyes and let himself laugh, just as he let himself scratch up Maddox’s chest, just for a taste of what the next real thing would be. “How’s that for vanilla?” “I think I have a new appreciation for vanilla,” Maddox said, rising to prop himself on his elbows, press his mouth to Ross’s, and stroke deep with his tongue. Ross figured he had a lot to thank pride for, too. Now.

Chapter Five “No way, man. Good as that was, I need some recovery time here.” Ross tried to ward Maddox off. Apparently, and not surprisingly, and not that Ross really minded, Maddox saw showers as just another group activity. “Chill out, I’m just here to hose down and two’s always good company. Move over.” Maddox tested the water and made a face. “Not hot enough for you?” Ross was sweating like a horse and he needed the cooler water blasting over him before he stroked out. “I like everything hot,” Maddox said. He waggled his tongue at Ross, sending a shiver of remembered pleasure through him at the memory of exactly what that tongue and its stud could do. He smirked at Ross, no doubt knowing exactly what Ross was thinking, but took pity anyway and went for the spigot on the far side. Not too far; their hips still bumped, so close enough to make his presence unforgettable. Not that that could ever happen anyway. When had this guy worked his way under Ross’s skin? Was it just his stubborn pride, or was it something else? Maddox flicked Ross’s temple with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m too fucked out to watch you think. Knock it off.” “Whatever you say, boss.” Ross lathered a sponge, a good rough honest-to-Pete sea sponge, and dragged it over his chest. Let the what and why and when wash off his skin with the soap and swirl down the drain. Anyone still feeling this good and bonelessly satiated had no business thinking at all, anyway. “Boss,” Maddox drawled over the rattling rush of water that sent up clouds of steam where it met cold tile and Ross’s preferred cooler temperature. “I like the sound of that.” “Toppy bastard.”

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“You love it.” Maddox frowned at a sponge, tossed it over his shoulder, and grabbed a still-wrapped bar of soap to scrub down with. Ross couldn’t help watching. The slickness of water and soap sharpened the stark contrast of bold black tattoos and fair skin, and though he’d noticed earlier -- kind of hard not to -- those tattoos did go everywhere, down his back, over his ass, all the way from thigh to ankle, and that was just the one side of Maddox. His attention drifted from the tattoos to the rippling fluidity of Maddox’s muscles. Flexibility kept Maddox narrow-hipped and he wasn’t broad-shouldered by nature but he made the slim line look hotter than a room full of naked football fullbacks. A dark streak ran down Maddox’s back and made him flinch, thinking it was blood -- he hadn’t scratched furrows in Maddox’s head somewhere in there, had he? On second look, Ross realized it was the dye leaching out of Maddox’s hair as it got wet. Ross’s fingers itched. He almost didn’t ask, but -- fuck it. He crowded into Maddox’s personal space, his chest to Maddox’s back, and breathed steam over Maddox’s ear. “Let me wash your hair?” Maddox cocked a perfect are you crazy? look over his shoulder. “Let me,” Ross insisted. “I worked fucking hard on this ‘do, man.” Maddox waved at his melting spikes. “Yeah, and it’s getting ruined by the water anyway. Let me.” Ross didn’t bother waiting for an answer, but rather put his hand on the nape of Maddox’s neck and bent his head forward, directly under the shower spray. When the water hit the back of Maddox’s head, Maddox moaned and went halfway to slack with pleasure. Weak spot. Ross socked that one away for future reference. Somewhere in his head he wondered when he’d started to care like this, then decided anything that’d give him a leg up was worth it, and refused to think about anything else. He reached past Maddox for the sample-sized shampoo, his favorite, one that smelled of woodsy musk, drizzled the whole contents on Maddox’s head, and got to work. He stroked firmly, with the same touch he’d use cleaning the chrome on the

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motorcycle, not too hard, but getting the job done no matter what. Ross would have cracked up at the way Maddox went as slack and happy as a kitten full of milk if his cock hadn’t already been on the rise, nudged between Maddox’s ass cheeks. He checked with one soap-slick hand and found Maddox just as hard, cock heavy against his thigh. His forth promising hard-on of the day didn’t just pleasantly ache, it fucking burned, but no turning back now. Ross pushed on with washing Maddox’s hair, drawing it out, savoring every second of the wrenching rise of urgency. He fucked Maddox’s cleft shallow and fast in time with the strokes of his fingers through Maddox’s wet hair. Stripped of the gel and the dye, left Maddox with a seal-sleek dark chocolate chin length mass that curled even when wet. “Shirley fucking Temple,” he taunted next to Maddox’s cheek. “I’m no girl,” Maddox said. He shrugged Ross off, caught his hand, and brought it down where he wanted it. “Proof.” “No kidding.” Ross was just tall enough to be able to see over Maddox’s shoulder, down his chest to his cock, red and sore with the workout it’d had. His head buzzed and he had to hang on tight not to pitch over and bring them both crashing down. Maddox was panting now, leaning white-knuckled on the tile with the steaming water sluicing over both of them. He hissed when Ross stroked almost deep enough to nudge the head of his cock in. Hurt too much to go further, but he held position and jacked Maddox with rough, hard strokes, meaning to get him off as fast as he could and make it something to remember. Something else to remember: Maddox was a screamer when he wanted to be. His roar when he came would have made Ross’s teeth rattle if they hadn’t been gritted almost tight enough to crack and he hadn’t been shooting down through the cleft of Maddox’s ass, the little bit of come he had left in him dripping from those tight cheeks down Maddox’s legs. He collapsed against Maddox, who collapsed against the wall in turn, both

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breathing as if they’d just run a mile-long race. In a way, Ross guessed they had. “I damn well hope they got that on film,” Maddox rasped with a cracked chuckle. “And if they didn’t?” “Guess we’ll just have to do it again.” Maddox arched his back to torment Ross. “And by the way? You still owe me a sexual favor of my choice. Don’t think I won’t call in my marker when you least expect it.” Third verse, still the same as the first. Ross believed him. Whatever this craziness was, he was going to grab on with both hands and ride it as far and as fast as he could -the ride of his life.

*** “I spy a dirty, dirty boy.” Ross turned his head to watch Maddox loping down the corridor, his gait easy, and his hair… holy fuck, what had he done now? “You’re one to talk.” “Aww.” Maddox pretended to pout. The effect was somewhat ruined by the stainless steel stud under his lower lip. “No love for the man today?” “You’re the living antithesis of ‘the man’.” “Damn right. Move over.” Maddox tried to wiggle under Ross’s arm to get a better view of the action in the filming room. Preparation for action, anyway. Aaron and Cody straddled locker room benches facing each other, chattering a mile a minute about which was a more valid breakfast choice, soda and cereal versus bagels and lox. Thom fiddled with camera angles while Skyler lurked in the background. Ross stayed put, but rather than block Maddox he shifted to allow Maddox room at his side. It’s not much, he thought, but it’s a start. Maddox quirked an eyebrow at Ross, then lifted the corner of his mouth and ducked forward. “Thank you, thank you ver’ much.” “You’re not Elvis, either.” “Maybe not, baby, but I’ve got the pelvis, and don’t you ever forget it.”

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“I’m seriously not likely to.” Ross worked up extra nerve to add, “I would get closer, except I’m afraid I’ll poke my eye out with your hair. What the hell? It looks like Jason Momoa ran headfirst through a glue factory and then did a naked Braveheart spring across a paintball shoot-to-kill range.” “Envy does not become you.” Maddox preened, camping it up, which looked even stupider than the pouting. Thing was, he knew it, and somehow that made it all right. Better than. Still, because he was a guy and some things were required by the Bro Code, Ross clicked his tongue and shook his head sadly. “A porcupine on acid. You know, I’ve seen you without the thousand pounds of gel and dye.” He put his lips to Maddox’s ear. “You remember how much I liked it.” “Screw you,” Maddox replied, amiable. “Stand still for a second, would you?” “I’m not the one who’s -- mmf.” It wasn’t easy to talk with a pierced tongue stroking his, and Ross gave up the effort point-five seconds in. There were better things to do with his lips just then. “Woo-woo!” Cody, of course. “Look at you two, gettin’ freaky off the clock!” “Cody,” Aaron scolded. Pink spread across his cheeks. “Leave them the fuck alone, dickhead.” Thom growled. Aaron and Cody both held up their hands, palms out in mute surrender, and Ross took a step back. But he didn’t deny it, what Cody had said. He knew it was true and he’d done it hoping Maddox would get what that meant to him. Please get it. Maddox leered at Ross and waggled his eyebrows while he wiggled his hips. “You sure I can’t entice you any closer than this?” Yup. He got it. Ross coughed away a laugh. Only Maddox would be that blatant about wanting to snuggle like a couple of high-school sweethearts. Only Maddox could have made Ross want to give him what he asked for. “If you end up blinding me, I’m suing.” “Have at it,” Maddox replied, already making himself comfortable, with Ross’s

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arms around his waist. “Hot, aren’t they?” “Who, Aaron and Cody?” “Nope. Well, yeah, but they aren’t who I meant this time.” Maddox nodded. “Thom and Skyler.” “Quiet on the set,” Thom snapped. Skyler slinked past Thom and blew him a kiss. If looks could kill… ouch. “I didn’t say it was good chemistry. Yet,” Maddox said in a hissed whisper. “You gotta love angry sex.” “Pass.” Ross tightened his arms around Maddox and tucked his chin atop Maddox’s head. The thousand-color gelled spikes weren’t as sharp as they looked. It was oddly like face planting in overgrown grass, but what the hell. Maddox idly stroked Ross’s hands where they were locked at his waist. “This is good, huh?” “Yeah.” Somewhere between boyfriends and buddies, closer to the former than the latter, and it was a good thing. Natural. Ross didn’t blush, didn’t want to squirm, and even though he had Maddox in his arms, there was no shame in watching Cody gulp down Aaron’s dick as soon as the cameras started rolling. He even cupped Maddox’s cock and rubbed it, lazy strokes designed to make it last. Maddox snuggled his ass to Ross’s groin and sighed, contented as a cat. Ross hadn’t ever thought he’d get here, to this point, with another of the Twentysomething guys. He might have been sorry it’d taken so long, except that the wait had netted him Maddox. What he did next, though, that was another question. Where did he go from here? Wherever it was, Ross wanted it to be even better.

*** “Hot damn. You actually got her running.” Ross almost clutched his chest; he did list sideways. Okay, so someone had taught Maddox that weird ninja stealth thing. “Do that again, and I’ll kill you.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Maddox crouched beside Ross and bumped heads with

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him. He’d combed all the product out of his hair, and though the colors would still blind a man, the rest was soft and tucked haphazardly behind his ears. “You didn’t have to do that.” Maddox raised one shoulder. “You can change, I can change. It’s my prerogative to change my mind. It happens all the time. Just talk to my ex-fiancée.” It took Ross a minute to remember the song. He jostled Maddox. “Cute.” “Yep,” Maddox replied with sunny good cheer. “Knock, knock.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Have you ever known me not to take something seriously? Knock, knock.” “I’m going to regret this. Who’s there?” “You have reached 1-900-Friends with Benefits. For a booty call, press one. For a hell of a good time, press two. We’ll be right back after these messages.” Ross propped his chin in his hand. “You’re a complete and total idiot.” “I’m smart on my mother’s side.” Maddox stood and stroked the motorcycle seat. “Listen to that baby purr.” “She does sound sweet, doesn’t she?” Ross couldn’t help the rush of pride when he looked at the chopper. Engine grease and oil streaked him from forehead to knees, he stank like he’d run a mile in Nevada during July -- and he didn’t think he’d been happier in his life. “Knew you could do it.” Maddox swung his leg over the seat and rocked his hips like it was a mechanical bull with a strap-on, and that analogy was probably proof that Ross had been spending far too much time with the guy. “Get off before you get off.” Ross killed the engine, but he climbed on board behind Maddox anyway. “Did you just come out here to give me a heart attack, or is there something else on your mind?” “Could be.” Maddox pretended to steer the bike, possibly through an Ultimate Death Match motocross course. “Wanted to see if you were up for an adventure.” “Would that be the ‘hell of a good time’ you mentioned?” “Smart guy. Yep. Some of the guys are gonna go camp out at Thom’s place

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tonight. Some beer, a fire, see how much trouble we can cause. The usual.” “Uh, not exactly the usual. I’ve never seen all the guys together outside of work.” “Then here’s your chance.” Maddox hopped off the bike, nudged Ross forward on the seat, and took pillion behind him. “Better. So, you in?” “Where’d you say they were getting together again? I think I might have had WD-forty in my ear, ’cause I know I didn’t hear you right when you said Thom’s.” “Doubting me, tsk, tsk.” Maddox hooked his ankles around Ross’s. “There’s going to be terrorizing. You don’t want to miss out on that, do you?” “Terrorizing Thom. The Thom who’s been stalking around like a bear with a hangover? That Thom?” Maddox sat with his chest pressed to Ross’s back so that his laughter vibrated through Ross’s body. “Hey, don’t blame the messenger. It was his idea. My hand to God.” “He’s got something up his sleeve, then.” “Signs point to yes. Are you coming?” Maddox slid his hand down from Ross’s waist to grope him. “And are you cool keeping bad company with me tonight?” “If all the guys are going…” Ross stopped. Wait. There was more to this, wasn’t there? Going with Maddox. The way Brandon went with Gabriel and Dylan, only with less BDSM involved, and Cody with Aaron, minus cereal and lox or whatever. Driving in as a couple. Maddox let go of Ross’s waist, his movements abrupt. “Never mind. Dumb idea.” “No, wait.” Ross twisted around to grab Maddox and drag his arms -- and his hands -- back where they’d been, exactly where he wanted them. His heart pounded in his throat and he would have described himself as scared shitless, but he wanted this more than it freaked him out. He thought maybe that was what he liked best about Maddox. “Yeah?” Maddox hooked his fingers beneath Ross’s belt. “You’re cool?” “I am. Where’s the party?”

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“In my pants.” Maddox jabbed Ross’s shoulder with his chin. “At Thom’s.” “I know that, dumbass. What I don’t know is where Thom lives.” “That I can help you with. Think Katherine would be pissed if you took the chopper out for a night?” “Nope.” Ross revved the engine and savored the bone-rattling vibration. “She’s legal. I bought her. This baby’s all mine. Fell for her, and I couldn’t let her go. I’ll rent her to the studio, but she comes home with me.” Maddox rested his cheek against Ross’s back and sighed, long and deep and satisfied. “Yeah?” And because this was Maddox, after all, he wiggled his hips to demonstrate how pleased he was. “You drive, I’ll point the way.” Ross answered by revving the engine and passing one of the two helmets hooked over the handles to Maddox. This was going to be one hell of a night. “Damn right,” Maddox said, chin over Ross’ shoulder, breath tickling his cheek. “And we haven’t even started yet.”

*** At first sight, it looked to Ross as if most of the cast and crew of Twentysomething had showed up for the kegger. Party. By any other name, it still equaled rowdy guys, a fire, and enough beer to make sure they all wanted to die or put out the sun tomorrow morning. “This is gonna be awesome,” Maddox enthused, vibrating with excitement before he’d fully clambered off the bike. He raced toward the bonfire, tucked into a somersault, and came up hollering, fist-punching the air. “Bring it on!” Ross hung back, watching. Counting heads, putting names to faces. Only ten guys, but with enough energy to make them seem like a hell of a lot more. Aaron and Cody, Brandon and Dylan and Gabriel, himself and Maddox, Skyler of all people, and even Thom, though Thom sat quietly off by himself nursing a longneck. And Jake, of course. Funny how Ross knew them almost better than he did his own family. Liked them more, too.

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Ross climbed off the bike and strode into the thick of the party. Cody pressed a beer into his hand, Aaron waved a bent coat hanger with a bratwurst speared on the end over the fire at him; Brandon, sandwiched between his two guys, blew him some kisses. Dylan flipped him off; Ross laughed and returned the favor; Gabriel’s broad, sharp white grin showed his approval. Skyler nodded at Ross, and Thom, well, Ross doubted Thom had eyes for anyone or anything but Skyler but he still waved. There had to be a story there. One he hadn’t heard yet. Ross wondered for a second if he should press his luck by asking, then decided Maddox would do that all on his own and he could suck the details out of his man later. Maybe literally. Ross hadn’t ever known it could be like this. A slow, bone-deep sense of comprehension settled within him. What he’d thought was true. These guys, they were his family, like Army buddies, brothers in arms and friends with a hell of a lot of benefits. He wondered, for one burning heartbeat, if maybe they could stay this way. All of them.

Chapter Six “You don’t think I can do it?” Maddox stood with his head raised like a stubborn bull. He had something to prove. “Fuck, no,” Gabriel shouted back. Ross chortled and leaned against the tree he shared companionably with Thom. He joined in the jeering. No one was drunk yet, just nicely buzzed and in the mood for fun. “I don’t think you can do it either,” he called. “You don’t, huh?” Maddox ran his tongue over his lips. “Wanna bet?” A prickle of excitement woke up Ross’s nerve endings. “What’ve you got in mind for the stakes?” “This should be good.” Dylan sat up from where he’d lain on his side close to the fire. “Go ahead, Ross. What’s your bet?” “I think…” Ross drew it out. He didn’t doubt Maddox could manage this. Losing the bet was kinda the whole point. He figured Maddox had understood all he’d tried to get across so far, but it wasn’t enough. There was one more thing Ross had to do to convey the full message, and he hoped to God it wasn’t one-sided. He didn’t think so, but he had to know for sure. “Put your mouth where your money is!” Cody yelled. “Quit dicking around!” “That’s not a bad bet,” Maddox said, gaze fixed on Ross. Ross couldn’t have asked for a better segue. “My mouth. Okay. Maddox does this without burning his hair off, then I’ll go down on him. Right here. Right now. On my knees. Everyone can watch me suck him off.” Ross thought, for a second, Maddox’s eyes were going to pop out of his head; only for a second, fast replaced by lust and, better still, dawning comprehension with a hefty side of hell, yeah approval.

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Almost there. Fuckin’ excellent. “You’re on.” Maddox shifted his hips and planted his feet a little further apart, showing off his assets. Very fine assets they were, too. Ross wasn’t the only one admiring the view. The warm glow within him that had nothing to do with the beer he’d drunk only grew hotter. “Let’s do this thing.” “Whiskey!” Cody demanded. “Someone’s got to have some. No one likes a hold out.” It was Aaron who, grinning sheepishly, produced a flask from his hip pocket. Cody looked impressed. And turned on. There was probably a story there, too, and Ross wanted to hear it. But not as much as he wanted to lose this bet. Maddox unscrewed the flask lid, sniffed, looked impressed. “Quality. I’m impressed.” “You wouldn’t know quality if it bit you on the ass,” Brandon mocked. “Fuck that noise. I’m with him, aren’t I?” Maddox jerked his thumb at Ross. The air whooshed out of Ross’s lungs; his fingertips buzzed and he knew he had to be grinning like an idiot. He didn’t care. “Get on with it!” someone, Ross couldn’t tell who, razzed. “Go. Go. Go.” The rest of the guys picked up the chant. “Go, go, go --” Maddox struck a pose dramatic enough that he should have had a skull in his hand and a monologue ready to fire. He leered at the crowd, winked at Thom, and locked eyes with Ross. Ross held the gaze. Yeah. They got each other. Luck was a lady tonight. “Gentlemen and twinks, I command your attention.” Maddox plucked a thinnish switch from the edge of the fire, cool end in hand, flame at the end. He held it out, not too far, the torchlight casting his tattoos into arcane, twisting shadow. The fire gleamed off the flask as Maddox tipped it back, gathering the whiskey in his cheeks. Maddox paused for effect, cheeks bulging, reminding Ross of what he liked better stuffed in there than whiskey. One second, two seconds, three, the chant echoing around and about them,

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raised to the skies. On the count of four, Maddox moved fast as greased lightning, and somehow blew his mouthful of whiskey through the flame. A fireball like dragon’s breath roared from the burning branch, hot enough and far enough to crisp the leaves on the tree Ross and Thom sat beneath. Maddox turned in circles to the whoops and hollers and applause, bowing from the waist and grinning that devil’s grin. “Fuck, yeah.” He stopped, pointing to Ross. “Time to pay up, my man.” Maybe Maddox still wondered if Ross would back out. Ross could sense the smallest thread of uncertainty in him. Like Maddox had said, fuck that noise. Ross stood and strode to his guy, head held high and boasting a smirk so dirty he even impressed himself. “I’m a man of my word, tough stuff. Spread ’em.” Maddox’s eyebrows climbed skyward. “Yes, sir.” “Hey!” Ross smacked Maddox’s hands away from his belt. “Mine.” “Look who’s finally in the game,” Maddox said, loud enough to be heard, intent enough on Ross for him to know who he’d really been talking to. “You already knew that.” “Yeah.” “But there’s nothing like proof, is there?” Part of Ross still couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but the curl of want and the heady rush of you’re the one were too strong to be denied. “You don’t have to,” Maddox said for Ross alone to hear. “Do you want to stop me?” Ross undid Maddox’s belt buckle. Unable to wait, slavering for it, he pressed his face against Maddox’s groin and mouthed the alreadyhard line of his dick through Maddox’s jeans. Maddox scrabbled through Ross’s short hair, searching for something to grab onto and hold. “You’re growing this out.” “Shut up.” Ross pushed Maddox’s jeans down his hips. No underwear -- big surprise -- definite advantage. Nothing Ross hadn’t done a hundred times, but he’d

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never once been this starving for it. He sealed his lips around Maddox’s cock and slid down as far as he could go. Further than he knew Maddox had expected him to. Maddox swore louder than a sailor on shore leave and buckled forward. Ross caught him and bore his guy’s weight. Their audience fell quiet, or maybe it was just that Ross wasn’t paying attention to anything except the crackle of the fire, the rasp of Maddox’s breathing, or the wet, slurping sounds he made as he gave the best performance of his life. Maddox tasted like a hard ride on a motorcycle, like musk and sweat and man, strong, bitter, better than anyone. Ross held Maddox still when Maddox’s knees would have given way. Drew off with a sucking pop and ducked down to draw Maddox’s balls in his mouth one at a time, giving them a good hard tongue-bathing. He flickered his glance up, proud as hell at the dazed look on Maddox’s face -- he’d done that, him -- and murmured, “Next time I’m rimming you.” “Fuck,” Maddox gasped. He clamped his hands on Ross’s face for lack of hair to pull and urged him back up. “If you’re gonna make me come that fast, I want to do it on your face.” Once, Ross would have wanted to slink into a hole and die hearing that from anyone, even when he was getting paid for it. Not now. Maybe not ever again. He took Maddox in hand and drew Maddox’s cockhead over his face. “So do it, then.” Maddox wrestled back control, though he had to duel Ross for it. He traced his dick over Ross’s cheeks and lips. “Want my jizz on your face, huh?” he rasped. “Want me to paint you up good?” “Fucking do it already.” Ross put out his tongue and licked. Maddox groaned, a noise that started somewhere deep inside and ended up as a roar, worked himself hard, fast, without mercy. Goddamn, he was gorgeous when he came, flushed dark beneath his tattoos and his eyes slamming shut. Ross kept his eyes open, wanting to see all of it. Hot stripes of come splashed him, heavy dollops on his forehead, his jaw, his lips, his chin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

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Maddox repeated, running them together. Ross massaged Maddox’s hips, urging more out of him. Licked him clean at the finish and caught Maddox one last time when Maddox’s knees gave out and he went tumbling down. “How’s that for ‘in the game’?” Ross whispered. “Shut up.” Maddox recovered fast, always did, and surged up to cover Ross and kiss him quiet. Ross wrapped his arms around Maddox’s neck. Maddox hadn’t gone soft. Good. “I want more,” Ross said. He raised one knee to throw Maddox off balance and bring him down between his legs, rolled his hips to remind Maddox that someone else here was needy and eager. “In front of a crowd? My, my, you shameless exhibitionist.” Maddox licked his come off Ross’s face. Ross didn’t know Maddox had stored it in his cheeks until he fed it back to Ross in a kiss that tasted like cock and whiskey, a kiss that made Ross groan and jerk up, desperate for some friction. He tossed his head, and saw what he hadn’t expected to see, but should have. A sight that made him want to laugh, applaud, fist-punch the air over. Aaron sprawled out, barely holding himself up, while Cody feasted on his cock. They hadn’t even gotten Aaron’s pants down all the way before they’d gotten to the good stuff. Aaron’s mouth was open in a wide O, his chest heaving, tossing his head to and fro. He humped up, facefucking Cody, who took it like a champ and loved every second. And Aaron hadn’t been into guys before he wandered into Twentysomething? Fuck. He’d been made for this. Not too far away from them, Brandon rode Gabriel. Little slut, Ross thought, bizarrely proud. Probably wears a plug all day long so he’s ready for action. The idea made his cock surge, more desperate than ever. That in itself was crazy-hot, but so was Dylan behind Brandon, mouthing and biting him, marking him up but good. He pinched Brandon’s nipples painfully roughly and when Brandon arched back, caught Brandon’s earlobe between his teeth. Maddox had stopped to watch this, too. “He’s not gonna,” Maddox started. “I think he is.”

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“Want to make a bet?” “Don’t have anything I can’t get just by asking for it.” “You’re honest to God cool with watching? With doing? Feel free to throw a punch, but the way you were when I met you --” “People change.” “Aww. The magical, therapeutic powers of my all-powerful dick got to you too, didn’t they? Ross pushed his face away. “Asshole.” “My second favorite part.” Maddox returned like a boomerang, right back where he started from. He scraped his cheek, rough with stubble, across Ross’s face. Ross licked his lips, watching hungrily, not a care in the world except for the aching throb in his groin. Yet it conflicted with his want -- his need -- to see this. His breath and Maddox’s hissed out when they fucking well went for it, Dylan and Gabriel and Brandon. Dylan slicked his cock, unrolled a condom, and spread Brandon’s ass cheeks wide. From where they lay, Ross -- and Maddox -- had a frontrow-seat view of Brandon’s pretty pink asshole already stretched tight and obscene around the massive bulk of Gabriel’s dick. Brandon writhed and mewled, cute as a kitten and hotter than a hellcat in heat, and bobbed his head, his lips open, panting but urging Dylan on. Dylan bent to lick around the place where Gabriel’s cock thrust fast and hard into Brandon’s hole, lavishing it with saliva and driving them both crazy. Gabriel’s grip on Brandon’s hips tightened, almost white-knuckled. Were they… Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Dylan uncurled upright, put the head of his cock to Brandon’s already overstuffed hole, and pushed in. Brandon’s scream that faded to a roar of oh, God, yeah made Ross’s cock burn for release. He wasn’t the only one, or maybe this had been a long time coming for them. Ross gaped at the sight of Thom, their patient, saintly Thom, who’d manhandled Skyler up against that tree and started going after him. Clothes flew and bare skin pressed to

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bare skin, Thom with his head thrown back and his lips parted, Thom’s hand busy and firm working him through his shorts. “About time,” Maddox said next to the corner of Ross’s mouth. He tickled and teased Ross’s ass. “What d’you think?” Ross dragged Maddox fully on top of him. “I’m good with this. With all of it.” He arched up to prove his point and relished the sight of Maddox’s already-dilated pupils blowing wide enough that only a thin rim of iris remained. “Are you?” Maddox’s descent upon Ross, and his savage attack on Ross’s mouth, were his answer, and a damn good answer at that. Ross snarled his fingers in Maddox’s hair and hung on for dear life, treading that thin edge and never happier before in his life. Crazy or not, this was home. “How long can you last?” Maddox asked, but for all the languorous teasing in the question, he was fumble-fingered in his rush to get Ross’s pants off. “How long do you think you can fuck me before you blow again?” Ross struggled to sit up and, with help, pulled Maddox’s T-shirt off over his head. The static made his hair stick out in a dozen different crazy directions, like a psychedelic dandelion, and Ross couldn’t help but crack up. He’d have fallen on his back laughing if Maddox hadn’t caught him, dragged him back up, and hauled Ross’s shirt off with way more urgency than finesse. The first press of chest to chest made Ross hiss in sync with Maddox. There was something to this that really, finally got to him, the push and play of tough muscles cramping his breathing. More. Ross reached around and grabbed two handfuls of Maddox’s fine, tight ass and squeezed. “You didn’t answer me,” he said. Taunted, showing Maddox with the shimmy of his body and the flex of his fingers more than he could put into words. “Give it up.” “You’re gonna get it now.” “Bring it.” “Then lay your ass down.” Maddox pushed Ross with the tip of his forefinger,

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and Ross was more than happy to give his aching, shaking muscles a rest and lie on his back, Maddox above him. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.” “Tell me you brought supplies,” Ross said, enjoying the feel of Maddox’s hips too much to let go for long. He guided Maddox up and down, mimicking what was to come, savoring the sweet burn. Maddox kicked into a push-up, poised over Ross. He bucked his jeans off, caught them with his foot, and punted them up to Ross. Ross breathed deep, loving the smell. “In my pocket.” Once the foil-wrapped square and the packet of lube were in hand, there was one more thing Ross wanted, and he didn’t waste time asking. “You want to prep, or can I do the honors?” “Fucking hell.” Wasn’t easy to stagger from a kneeling position, but Maddox managed. Better still was the impressed gleam that lit him up darkly from within, one that had nothing to do with the bonfire dying down behind them. “You’re not doing this half-assed, are you?” “I’ll take that as a yes.” Ross started to writhe out from beneath Maddox; much as he’d like to, he couldn’t do this prone. Maddox stopped him. “Seriously. You don’t have to be someone you’re not for me. I shoot off at the mouth, you know? I like fucking and I like it when fucking’s fun. But you --” “Do I look like someone who’s got a problem with this?” They were at just the right angle for Ross to take Maddox in hand and press their cocks together. “About damn time I didn’t, if you ask me. Now are you into watching this, or not?” “I am so into it.” Maddox rolled off, flipped to his back and tucked his hands behind his head, and leered at Ross. “Give me a show, Mr. Boy Next Door.” “Your wish, my command.” It’d been a while since Ross had done this. Wasn’t something he got off on with other guys, and his flexibility didn’t half match Maddox’s, but he craved this and he made it work: his own fingers up his ass. No grace and no pretty tricks, just two fingers in as deep as he could go, crooked up. His cock jerked and

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leaked a thin string of precome that Maddox surged up and forward to catch on his tongue. Ross pushed him away with the hand not busy working his ass open. “Uh-uh. Not yet.” Maddox licked his lips. “I’m not sorry.” “Wouldn’t expect you to be. Check this out.” Ross slid his fingers out of his ass, biting back a disappointed snarl at the instant hollow emptiness. His legs shook when he turned his back to Maddox. “Holy fuck.” He heard Maddox shoving up to lean on his elbows. “Forget what I just said. Change any way you want if this is what I get.” “You asked for it.” Ross took a deep, cleansing breath, uncurled a third finger, and slid it in. Oh, fuck. It was different when the hand working you open was your own, the angle sharper, with a harsher burn. Fucking incredible. His lips were parted, his eyelids drooping so he could barely see Maddox, but the naked hunger and the groan that echoed his were all so worth it. “Get that condom on. Now.” Cellophane crinkled. “What are you --” “Watch and see.” Ross scissored his fingers wide, pinky uncurling. Could he? Maybe he’d find out later, because maybe just the sight of that had driven Maddox over the edge and into the white-out zone where the only thing that mattered was getting his cock buried in slick tightness now, now, now. They wrestled, locked together, and ended up exactly where Ross wanted them -- Maddox still on his back, and Ross poised above him. He caught Maddox’s right wrist and kept him down. Would have been both if he didn’t have other plans for the left. “Hold yourself steady for me.” Maddox’s grip was firm, and Ross knew how their bodies fit together. He tipped his head back, breath escaping him in one long, slow exhale, and slid down Maddox’s dick, not stopping before Maddox’s balls slapped his ass and his cock lay angry-red and urgent on Maddox’s abs.

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“Such a bottom, I fuckin’ swear,” Maddox babbled. He fucked Ross hard, slow, smooth and sleek, choppy, fast, irregular. “Cocktease, son of a bitch --” Ross bore down around Maddox, trying to take him deeper. He had ahold of both wrists now, in control, loving every second of it but he couldn’t -- think -Coming, oh God, he was coming and he didn’t have a hand on him. He’d never - not ever -Ross didn’t recognize the sound he made when his cock jerked and he shot over Maddox. Blew his load harder than anything caught on film, so much to give, landing in white stripes as high as Maddox’s nipples. “Oh, you son of a bitch,” Maddox gasped. He strained, tendons ropelike, dug his nails into Ross’s hips and Ross thought it was almost over too soon -Not yet. Maddox was always stronger than Ross remembered to give him credit for. He rose and jostled Ross into his lap to fuck him face-to-face, mouth to mouth, plundering wet and hot, the strokes of his tongue timed with the pounding he gave Ross’s ass. He had his teeth sunk in Ross’s lip, and then Ross’s tongue in his mouth, sucking on it, when he shuddered, howled like a wolf, and shuddered through the orgasm as if he’d fall apart, a thousand pieces of light and shadow and ink and dye and man. Maddox fell heavily on his back. Ready for that and not able to hold himself up anyway, Ross followed and let his head thump to rest on Maddox’s chest. Maddox still had his cock inside, not yet soft, every so-good twinge of soreness reminding Ross who’d been there, who’d done this to him, who’d made him love this. All of it, and not just them fucking, but listening to the guys around him shouting and scratching, bodies writhing locked together, coming. The strong smell of sex and sweat and come flooded the air. He wanted to gather them all together and fall asleep in one huge pile of fuckedout men. Maybe, later, he would. Right now he had his guy to tend to, or maybe it was the other way around. Maddox cradled Ross’s head. Ross rubbed up no matter whether he had the strength or

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not, willing to push that extra bit of distance. “I didn’t have to change,” he mumbled. “I wanted to. You got me there.” Maddox’s chest shook, barely audible laughter humming next to Ross’s ear. “Yeah, I know. All of it.” Ross pinched Maddox’s side. “Don’t think you get to hold this over me.” “I think I get to hold you any way I want to, and you won’t say no.” Maddox pulled at Ross’s arms. “Get up here. Give me some of that melted sugar.” The kiss was slower this time, softer, not sweet, but close enough, and it went on until it wasn’t so much of a kiss as it was their mouths moving uselessly together. Ross rested his forehead against Maddox’s and shared breath with him. Leave it to Maddox, though, to have the last word. “You see now why I wanted you?” he asked, rubbing Ross’s back even if he was halfway asleep. Ross let him keep the last word, and thought this for himself alone. Maddox already knew, the crazy bastard. Yeah. And I see now why I kept coming back. This is what I wanted all along, too.

Willa Okati Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, passion for manlove, creativity and a lifelong love of storytelling. You can reach Willa at [email protected]. Read more about the Screen Shots series at www.TwentySomethingTwinks.Com or visit her at her website at www.WillaOkati.com. Join Willa on Twitter with at www.Twitter.com/willaokati or blog with her at www.FictionWithFriction.com.

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