Guys on Top (11 page)

“Really,” Doug said. “You don’t like me, but you want to fuck me.”

“Just a thought.” He moved closer to Doug. “I’d even bottom for you. Though I’m usually a top. But I can tell you wouldn’t have it any other way. I bet you have to be the boss in bed. All that angry energy...”

Doug’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. He struggled to keep his face blank. But then Corey reached out and stroked his arm. Tingles of intense pleasure followed his touch. He repeated the motion, sliding his hand up and down. Heat seemed to flow from Corey’s fingertips, penetrating Doug’s flesh, and another shock of pleasure tore through his body. His cock stood at attention, throbbing painfully. 

Abruptly, he jerked his arm away. “Don’t do that.”

Corey held his hands up and took a step back. “Sorry. Would you believe I didn’t mean to touch you? It’s that yin-yang thing we’ve got going on. My healing energy is drawn to your infected soul.”

Doug laughed, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. “Corey, has anyone ever told you you’re a little unstable?”

Corey let out a deep laugh, tossing his head back. “Ah, yeah, actually. My adviser in med school. Anyway, I have a client, I’ve got to run. See you Wednesday night.”
Doug watched him get into his car and back it out of the garage. Corey gave him a wave through the windshield before disappearing around the corner of the house.

Doug let out a breath, trying to shake off the unwelcome arousal that hummed through his body. Little tingles still lingered on his arm where Corey touched him.

“Jesus Christ.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and climbed back under the car.

****

“So let me see if I understand this,” Wyatt said, chewing a potato chip. “You meet a guy who’s in an open relationship. Yet still, you somehow...I can’t quite wrap my head around this. You somehow got him to
cheat
on his boyfriend. How does that work?”

He and Doug sat in front of the big screen, the movie paused. They’d watched
King Arthur
, and were on to
The 13
^th
Warrior
. Wyatt’s choice of guy movies turned out to be a burden to Doug, as every strapping, wind-blown actor on horseback made him think of Stewart. And while Corey might have made his dick hard earlier, thinking about Stewart tugged at things deeper, eliciting a melancholy he wasn’t comfortable with.

“He didn’t cheat. You can’t cheat if you have an open relationship,” Doug said.

“But the boyfriend got mad,” Wyatt said. “That doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It’s complicated.”

Wyatt laughed, grabbing another handful of chips. “I’ll say. You need to stay out of that, Dougy. You’ve had enough problems in the love triangle area.”

“I’m staying out of it,” he said. “But they’re my neighbors. At the very least, I have to be nice.”

Wyatt looked at him. “Just don’t be too nice. I know you, Doug. You’re monogamous by nature. You’ll end up falling in love with one of them. Those guys are operating on a different frequency than people like us. They’ll chew you up and spit you out.” He stuffed the handful of chips into his mouth, chomping.

“Different frequency? They have a different lifestyle, they’re not aliens, Wyatt.”

“Close enough! They’ll probe your ass and then fry your brain.”

“You’ve got potato chip grease on your glasses,” Doug said.

Wyatt shrugged, smiling as he chewed. “Don’t care. Beth’s not here, I can be a dirty slob if I want to.” He wiped his mouth. “Hey, we should smoke pot!”

Doug’s jaw dropped. “
You
have
pot
?”

“A little. I got it from Rick Allston.”

“Rick Allston. Your pediatrician friend. Gives you pot.”

“Hey, don’t judge me. You have no idea what it’s like to have a two-year-old. I mean, I love Mandy to death. I miss her right now. I want to smell her baby curls and kiss her drooly little cheeks. But man, it’s like having a little queen that you have to serve twenty-four hours a day. It’s mentally and physically exhausting. So yeah. Sometimes I smoke a little pot.” He opened the coffee table drawer and pulled out a small tin. He looked at Doug. “Don’t worry, I don’t keep it in here when the baby’s home. You want?” He held a joint up.

“Ah, I don’t think so. I have to work tomorrow. And that shit makes me paranoid. Which I do not need right now with my crazy neighbor problem.”

Wyatt shrugged and lit the joint, inhaling deeply. He blew out a funnel of smoke. “So you really think this Corey guy is batshit?”

Doug shook his head. “I don’t think he’s literally nuts. It feels more like he’s putting on an act to fuck with my head.”

“This is the guy Jairo slept with?”

“Yeah. Poor Jairo. He was all aflutter.”

“So why do you think Corey’s fucking with you, because he’s jealous you were with his boyfriend? God, Doug, this is starting to sound a bit too much like the Harry and Tyler thing. You worry me.”

“Hey.” Doug pointed. “I told you to never say his name.”

Wyatt took another hit off the joint then stubbed it out. “Sorry, sorry. Harry and
Pretty Boy
, okay?”

Doug grinned. “That’s better. And it’s nothing like that. To be honest, I don’t think Corey cares too much about the Stewart and me thing. It feels like...like he’s doing it for fun. Like it’s a game that amuses him, poking at me, trying to find my weaknesses. There’s this over the top quality to him. He’s like one of those mean girls in high school. Or one of those nasty preppy guys played by James Spader in an ’80s movie.”

Wyatt huffed. “Well he certainly sounds...interesting.”

“He is that. Jairo mentioned that he thought Corey was extraordinarily smart. So maybe this is how he gets his kicks.”

“Huh,” Wyatt said, taking a sip of wine. “Jairo’s pretty damn smart himself. So if he thinks so it’s probably true.”

“Yeah, we’ll I’m smart too,” Doug said. “But I think this Corey d-bag thinks I’m some butch caveman who he can manipulate to feel superior. Stewart said Corey was gonna be a psychiatrist, but didn’t finish med school. Not sure what happened there, but it makes sense, the dude tries to get inside your head.”

Wyatt’s head whipped around and he looked at Doug, his mouth falling open. He set his wine glass down. “Whoa, wait a second. You’re not talking about Corey Stengel, are you?”

“I don’t know his last name. Why, you think you know him?”

Wyatt’s red-rimmed eyes narrowed. “Is he a tall blond? Really good looking?”

Doug scowled. “Ah, yeah, but that could describe a lot of people.”

“Does he drive a little Fiat Spider?”

Doug’s eyes widened. “Fuck. Yeah. That’s him.”

“Oh,
man
.” Wyatt giggled, hands going to his head. “You live downstairs from Corey Stengel!”

“You know him? How?”

“He still has that car?” Wyatt fell into giggles again, and Doug wanted to slap the stoned out of him.

“Wyatt, tell me!”

“Okay,” he said, catching his breath. “Early on, first year I think, I had a class with him in school, but everyone knew Corey. Or at least knew of him. He got kicked out for practicing without a license.”

Doug shifted on the couch, picking up his beer. “Really?”

“It was all very bizarre. The story I heard was that over semester break he went to some retreat in Costa Rica, one of those places where you go in a sweat lodge and have visions or whatever. When he came back to school the following semester, he apparently started a little at-home business where he’d see patients and give them his own brand of psychotherapy, which involved a lot of
touching
. I had a friend who partook of his services, mainly because she had a huge crush on Corey.”

“Shit,” Doug said. “Was Corey gay then? I mean, was he out?”

“I don’t know, there were rumors that he was, but it didn’t stop girls from throwing themselves at him. Becca, this girl I knew, said Corey believed he’d been made aware that he had this
gift
during a vision while he was at that retreat, and he could now feel people’s emotional problems. And by touching them, he could draw the problems out with his hands. He thinks he’s a healer. Or at least he used to. I don’t know what he does now, that was a long time ago.”

Doug grinned at Wyatt. “He’s a massage therapist.”

Wyatt started laughing again.

“And he still thinks he’s a healer.”

Wyatt fell over onto his side, gasping with laughter. Doug frowned down at him. “You really shouldn’t smoke pot, Bro. You’re a lightweight.”

Wyatt sat up. “So Corey’s still on that kick? How do you know, did he talk to you about it?”

“Oh yeah,” Doug said. “He wants to suck out my bad energy. I think through my dick.”

Wyatt lost it again, and Doug gave up trying to have a coherent conversation with him. He turned the movie back on and they spent the remainder of the afternoon watching Antonio Banderas hack the shit out of the Eaters of the Dead, then Wyatt fell asleep sitting up.

Doug put a blanket over Wyatt, then strolled out onto the back deck to get some air. He sat down at the patio table and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his numbers.

Stewart
.

He was looking forward to going back to work tomorrow, back to the routine, so he could get his mind off of things at home. Shit, he’d only been there a week, and he felt like he’d already created an uncomfortable environment for himself, which was the exact opposite of his intentions when he chose the place. It was supposed to be his sanctuary, his calm home base to regroup. Now it felt like he was living in a soap opera. And he had no one to blame but himself. He didn’t have to sleep with Stewart. He could have just bid him goodnight, left him on the pullout couch, and gone to his own room.

But he’d just wanted him
so
bad. He recalled the near irresistible pull he’d felt, the overpowering need to touch him. It likely had a bit to do with his extended sexual dry spell. But it had a lot to do with Stewart. His mind kept flashing back to rolling around on the bed with him, their naked flesh mingling. His smell. His taste. The way he looked when he came.

Doug stared down at Stewart’s name on his phone display.
Do not call him
. But even as his conscience gave the warning, his mind was busy thinking up excuses to do just that. He was feeling mellow and romantic after watching movies. He wanted to talk to him, just hear his voice. His laugh.

He’s not your boyfriend. He’s someone else’s
.

Doug considered Wyatt’s story about Corey and his med school days. Whatever Corey was selling, Stewart was most definitely buying. He’d told Doug without hesitation that Corey had
a gift
. Did that mean Stewart was kind of nuts too?

Does it mean I am?

Okay, so Corey’s touch had given him a weird tingle today. But that didn’t mean he had powers. The power of suggestion, maybe. If Corey’s ‘clients’ went into it thinking they were going to be healed, they’d likely find a way to convince themselves they had been. The mind was a powerful thing, and people were suggestible.

Doug had listened to Jairo’s diatribe about Corey’s magic hands, so the idea had already been planted in his mind, whether he believed it or not. But it was more likely that he’d reacted to Corey’s touch because the guy was talking about how he wanted to fuck him at the time. And of course, Corey was just damn hot, no denying it. Weird, but hot.

But not nearly as hot as Stewart. Damn it, Doug wanted to see Stewart again. Talk to him, get to know him better.

He opened a text window. Hell, he could text him, right? Stewart
had
mentioned them going out together sometime. And now with Corey’s invitation to karaoke, odd as it was, he had an excuse at least, something to talk about. Doug thought for a moment, then began to type. 

‘Hey, Stewart. Corey gave me your number. Said something about karaoke Wed. night. I guess he doesn’t hate me anymore. Still think he’s weird, though
.
No offense
.’

Doug reread the message and shrugged. Good enough. He hit send.

He sighed and set the phone down, stretching his back. When the phone rang moments later, he jumped. Snatching it off the table, he looked at the display and saw Stewart’s name.

Shit! He hadn’t prepared himself for a real conversation, hence his cowardly texting. He took a deep, calming breath and answered. “Hey.”

“Hey!” Stewart’s voice held that whimsy he’d had during their first conversation at the bar, and it made Doug smile. “I’m glad you called, Doug, I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Where are you? I saw your car’s gone.”

“I’m at my brother’s place. We watched movies, but now he’s asleep.” Doug chuckled. “I must be stimulating company.”

Stewart’s heavy laugh came through the phone. “Oh you are. I can vouch for that.”

Damn!
The words stirred things in Doug’s pants, and he grinned. “Yeah, you too. Wanna hear something weird?”

“Always.”

“My brother knew Corey in med school.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“You still there?”

“Yeah.” Stewart went quiet for another few seconds. “That is weird. I heard Corey hit on you today.”

Doug sat up straighter, surprised. “He told you that?”

Stewart laughed, but it wasn’t as hearty sounding as before. “Yeah, he told me. He said he wanted to tell me before Pussy McTattletale did. But he was just fucking around with you. Or so he says.”

“Yeah,” Doug said. “That’s what I figured. No big deal.”

“Do you want to go grab a drink or something?”

Doug’s stomach lurched with excitement. “Right now?”

“Yeah, why not? Unless you have plans.”

“No, no that sounds great. But ah...”

“Corey doesn’t want me in your apartment. He didn’t say anything about going to a bar. Besides, he’s not home.”

Doug grinned. “Okay then. Where?”

“Bernie’s?” Stewart asked.

“Sure.”

“Great. I don’t want to haul my van down there, so why don’t you bring your car home and we’ll walk down, it’s only a couple blocks.”