The Other Team, Book 7
Published 2016 by Book Boutiques.
Copyright © 2016, G.R. George.
All rights reserved.
1 ounces of gin
The fresh squeezed juice of a key lime (Or ½ ounce of lime juice)
1 ounce of simple syrup (add another ounce if you like your drinks sweeter!)
4 ounces of sparkling white wine or champagne
Maraschino cherry and lime slice to garnish
Shake gin, lime juice, and simple syrup together with ice then strain into a Collins glass half filled with ice. Finish drink with sparkling wine or champagne, and garnish with cherry and lime slice. The Limeade Sparkler is refreshing on a hot summer night. You will happily suck it down!
Something Like That
Ricky McNeil didn’t flinch when the quiet hum of the tattoo machine started. He didn’t even wince when the quick, vibrating needle punctured the skin beneath his collarbone. On the contrary, he enjoyed the minor pain. He tilted his head to the left and back to give the artist, his younger sister, more room to work. Rose McNeil had been a somber girl who’d turned into a serious woman. She was younger than him by three years, but her black hair, swept up and back into a tight bun, had one platinum streak down the right side that made her look older. When their father died, she hadn’t been old enough to remember the explosion, which also meant she hadn’t been old enough to remember Da either. Their life, his and Rose’s, had been hard—before and after Ireland. Even so, she always had a smile for Ricky. It was their father’s smile, and missing him still hurt.
Rose gave him one of her smiles now as she gently guided the tattoo machine with her right hand, tracing the outline of the Celtic Griffin she’d drawn for him, while she steadied his shoulder with her other hand. She pursed her lips, crinkling her cherry red lipstick as she narrowed her bright, green eyes in concentration. Her scowl made him laugh.
“You’re going to give yourself premature wrinkles if you don’t ease up on the frown.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Shut up, or I’m going to charge you.”
“I wish you would charge me.”
She pulled the machine away from his skin for a moment. “I won’t do that, Ricky.”
“Easy, sis.” He smiled and patted her hand on his shoulder. In the last several years, Rose had been his only tattoo artist. She never let him pay, but some day, when he had his own medical practice, Ricky planned to take care of her and their mother. “Let’s get on with it. I don’t have a lot of time tonight.”
Ricky grimaced. “Something like that.”
“I know you’re seeing someone. Why don’t you just tell me who?” She started tracing the tattoo again. “Or better yet, you can bring her around. I’ve never met anyone you’ve dated.”
Of course she hadn’t met anyone he dated. Ricky had been raised a not-so-good Catholic boy. Rose might be okay with him being gay, but his mother…not so much. He’d already lost his dad. He wouldn’t risk losing his mom as well. If he told Rose, she’d have to keep his secret, but he didn’t want her to have that burden. Besides, it wasn’t like he planned to settle down with anyone. He briefly closed his eyes, suppressing a sharp pinch of emotion.
Lately, he’d been “seeing” Alex Michaels, and while they weren’t dating, it had been the closest Ricky had ever come to having a regular lover. He’d always had at least two jobs, and after he started at university, there was definitely no time for more than the occasional hook-up. And now, between his internship at the hospital and working as a cook at The Other Team Sports Bar & Grill, he still didn’t have time for what most people would consider a real relationship.
Alex. He’d met him at the bar. Alex waited tables for extra money while he worked on his master’s degree in research biology. The long-legged science geek, with his wide, dark brown eyes and his full sensual mouth, made Ricky’s adrenaline surge. Even after a day at the hospital and an evening of cooking at the bar, he never had a problem finding the energy to fuck Alex. The guy was an insatiable bottom. Alex brought out the best…and the worst in Ricky. He cared about the loveable nerd more than he cared to admit, and sometimes the walls he threw up to protect himself from getting too close made him appear cold and distant. Unemotional.
Ricky stared at Rose, tempted to tell her the truth about himself, about Alex. After a moment, he shook his head. He and Alex were nothing more than fuck-buddies. They were using each other to scratch an itch, nothing more. “If I ever find someone I want you to meet, then I’ll bring them home. Until then…”
“I know, but damn, Ricky. You haven’t been around much, so it makes me think maybe you do have someone special. Is she a doctor too?”
“Not a doctor, and not special.” He winced as he pushed down a twinge of rising emotion beyond desire. Their first time had been a result of Ricky wanting to fuck the smug look off the guy’s face. Alex Michaels was an elitist. A snob. But, God, he could suck cock, and even better, he had no complaints about Ricky’s size—a problem he’d experienced in the past with some of the guys he’d had sex with since he was a definite top.
He snapped his attention to Rose. “What?”
“Are you planning to club a baby seal?”
Ricky followed Rose’s gaze to his lap. His dick was hard and bulging against his tight jeans. Fuck. He raised his brow at Rose and then he shrugged.
“I guess you’re thinking about Miss Not-Special,” she replied. “I finished the outline. That’s enough for tonight. Now, you can get on with your hot date.”
“It’s not a date. It’s just…mutual satisfaction.” Alex always made himself ready for Ricky, and the sex was glorious. But even if he wanted to pursue a relationship with Alex, their differences were insurmountable.
Waiting For Ricky
Alex Michaels spent the early evening working on his thesis. In less than three months, he would have to bring it before a committee to defend his conclusions on neural mapping for spinal cord regeneration. He didn’t have a class during the summer, because he needed the extra time to concentrate on gathering data for the paper. At nine p.m., he put his work away. Ricky would be over soon.
He stripped down to ritually prepare himself for his wild and demanding lover. Not that he minded. Just the opposite. No one else excited Alex like Ricky. He loved having the other man in charge of his body. The fact that Ricky wasn’t afraid to assert his control made Alex’s heart beat faster. Made him sweat.
Once Alex cleansed with an enema, he stepped in the shower to wash his body thoroughly. He knew two things for certain about Ricky, the man had an adorable, slight accent was a result of his Irish heritage, and he always used barriers during both foreplay and sex. Alex didn’t mind the condoms or the latex dams. In a weird way, it made him feel cared for.
He took a deep breath to stop his shaking hands and calm his nerves. Tonight he had something different planned for Ricky, and he hoped it would be a turn-on, not a turn-off.
After the shower, he set the scene on his bed. A large towel for under him, some smaller ones for clean up, and paraphernalia they would need to complete Alex’s fantasy. He shivered with excitement. Logically, he knew Ricky was perfectly respectable. The man was a doctor, even if only in his residency. However, the tattoos, the beard and messy hair, and the way he dressed all screamed danger and adventure. His stomach tingled just thinking about the roughness of Ricky’s beard against his skin.
So many times he’d wanted to trace each of Ricky’s tattoos, to learn the story behind the unique art he wore like a suit of armor. He worried that if he asked too many questions, if he wanted to know too much, that Ricky would stop seeing him. Ricky was the kind of guy that didn’t do deep and meaningful.
Was shallow and sexy such a bad thing? Besides, what if they took the time to really know each other, and they didn’t like what they found out? His real fear was that Ricky would lose interest.
No. He wouldn’t try to change things between them. Even if no one else understood. His parents, for example, would never get it. They would hate Ricky. He was everything they despised—an uppity immigrant trying to take a piece of their American pie. Their words, not Alex’s, and not about Ricky in particular. Aside from them hating Ricky, he was even more certain Ricky would hate them. Hell, on some level, Alex wondered if Ricky even liked him. He hadn’t said as much, but Alex got the feeling that Ricky was a reverse classist.
He wouldn’t think about their differences now. He would enjoy the fact that Ricky was coming over, and soon, he would be coming over, under, in and around Alex, if Alex had his way.
When Ricky texted he was on his way, Alex unlocked the front door and cracked it just a tiny bit, before heading back to the bedroom to finish setting the scene.
Don’t Be Coy, Alex
Ricky knocked on the door of the one-bedroom condo. Alex’s place was nice—a lot nicer than the dive he lived in. It surprised him when the door opened at his touch.
“Alex?” he asked and waited for a reply. When none came, he stepped in, closing the door behind him. As he walked into the living room, he could hear soft music.
“Alex,” he said again.
He wandered down the hall toward the music, his cock stiffening with anticipation. What was Alex doing?
Ricky stripped his shirt off over his head and kicked off his shoes before he reached the bedroom door. He unbuttoned his jeans and entered the bedroom. He bit his lower lip and held his breath to keep from moaning at the sight that greeted him. Alex lay face down and naked, his legs spread. The firm, round globes of his ass were on perfect display. The tall man’s pale skin almost glowed in the ambient light of the candles he’d placed around the room. He propped up on one elbow, looked over his shoulder at Ricky, and said, “I’m ready for you.”
“I can see that,” Ricky said. In the past couple of months he’d made a study of Alex’s body. He’d memorized every sexy inch from the small freckle under his left earlobe, to the slight curvature of his spine, the cute dimple on his right butt cheek, all the way down to his overlapping pinky toes. A low growl rumbled in his throat. He rubbed his hand over his already hard cock, heavy with aching need.
He made sure Alex watched.
Looping his thumbs into the band of his jeans, he shoved them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear, so his length immediately sprang forward, thick and ready.
Alex whimpered. Next to him on the bed were lubricants, dental dams, condoms, shaving lotion, and a safety razor.
The shaving supplies surprised Ricky. What did Alex have in mind? He grunted, excited about the possibilities. He gazed at Alex’s pale, unblemished skin—a sharp contrast to Ricky’s scars and tattoos. He wondered, not for the first time, why Alex kept coming back for more. The collegiate preferred clean-cut, All-American types, as evidenced by his obsession with another guy they worked with—Tucker Thompson.
Deep down Ricky suspected he knew the real reason behind their frequent rendezvous. Ricky was a walk on the wild side for Alex—an act of rebellion. For a guy like Alex, Ricky was a bit of fun. An adventure he could look back on in his old age and say, “Yes, I lived on the edge.”
Ricky’s chest squeeze. He wasn’t looking for something serious, but still, it bothered him that Alex would never see him as something more than a passing fling. He shimmied his pants all the way off and crawled on to the bed between Alex’s thighs. If he concentrated on the moment, he could and would lose himself to pleasure.
He picked up the razor, four-blades with a pivoting head. He lay on top of Alex, enjoying the way the other man’s heat sank into his skin, and pressed his lips to his ear. “What have you got on your mind?” he asked. He ground his hips in a slow circle. “You want me to shave my beard? Because that isn’t happening.” He rasped his beard against Alex’s cheek.
Alex groaned. “That’s not what I want.”
“Then what?” He tugged Alex’s earlobe between his teeth.
His hand was on Alex’s throat, and he could feel his lover’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. “I want…”
“Yes? Don’t be coy, Alex.” He bit the lobe harder and watched with satisfaction as Alex fisted the sheets and groaned again.
“It’s stupid.” His voice was barely a whisper.
Ah. Alex was scared to say what he wanted. Ricky would have to give him the push he needed. “Tell me,” he demanded.
A whoosh of air escaped Alex before he drew in a ragged breath. “I want you to shave me.”
For a moment, Alex’s statement confused Ricky. “Your head?”
“No.” Alex’s skin warmed, and even in the dim light, Ricky could see the blush creeping the side of his face. “Never mind. It was dumb.”
“I don’t want to never mind, Alex.” He stroked the side of Alex’s face, cupped his chin, and then turned his head enough to the side so that he could look Alex in the eyes. “I can’t give you what you want if you won’t tell me, and I want to give you what you want, Alex.” When Ricky said the words, it clicked for him how true they really were. He wanted to satisfy Alex’s every desire.
Alex rolled his eyes then huffed. “Fine.” His next words were less huffy. “I thought it might be interesting for you to shave my ass.”
Ricky tucked his chin and frowned. “Yeah?” His balls tingled as his excitement grew.
“Only if you want.” Alex swallowed hard again. “I’ve, you know, cleaned and stuff, and I just thought…”
Smiling, Ricky leaned forward until his mouth was less than an inch from Alex’s. He wanted to kiss Alex, to claim his mouth, the way he claimed the young man’s body, but the intimacy of kissing Alex made him uncomfortable. Instead, he reached back with his free hand to squeeze Alex’s ass, and said. “Nothing would please me more.”