The Locker Room (30 page)

both grimaced—they both knew what picture everyone"s blog or

newspaper would lead off with, and good for them.

The dinner was called, and they sat down across the room from

each other at separate tables. Xander ate stiffly, hardly tasting his

London Broil at all, and Penny made acerbic, charming conversation

next to him. Xander didn"t know any of the players or their dates, and he

tried to contribute, but his entire being was focused on the man

somewhere in the room behind him, and he felt like his stoic silence was

keeping his atoms from flying apart and dematerializing.

Then he realized that Vince Blake was talking to him and he

mustered all his effort and pulled his attention forward.

“So, are you and Edwards excited to be getting the team together?”

Xander blinked, and then smiled widely. That was the other perk of

the game—not only were they going to
see
each other again, they were

going to
play
together again. “Yeah, man—I don"t know if anyone else

on the court can learn to read my mind like Chris.”

Vince shook his head. “You two were like magic. I can"t imagine

what they were thinking about with that trade. The whole NBA is talking

about it, and not in a good way. I mean, you know there"s turnover in

this job, but when something"s working?”

Xander"s smile was razor thin. “I"m sure they had their reasons,”

he said, “but I sure don"t understand them.” And that right there was the

honest-to-God truth.

The Locker Room 169

“Well, yours is not to reason why,” Penny said, downing her

Cosmo with a long draught. “Yours is just to do or die, right, Xander?”

Xander winced. God, she was like a dog with a bone. “There are

times to fight and times to hold the line,” he said mildly, throwing Vince

an apologetic glance because Vince had no idea what this was about.

Penny cast him a challenging glance. “Are you gathering your

troops, Xander?”

Xander looked at her, and for the first time that evening, a real

smile—a crooked one, but it was real—escaped. “I don"t know, Penny,

have you seen how full my guest bedrooms are?”

A laugh wiggled out of her, and they both returned to their

conversation with Vince. Silently, Xander was asking though, what else

did she expect him to do?

It didn"t matter. Not this night. There were speeches, and then there

were pictures, and then there was small talk. Mixing, mingling,

representing. Somehow, he made it across the room casually, to meet

Chris in the middle.

“Jesus, Karcek, did you grow in the last six weeks?” Chris asked,

and the center of Xander"s body started quivering like a plucked string.

“Is that all you got? We haven"t played together in six weeks, and

that"s your banter? Weak, Edwards. Bush-fucking-league.”

Chris grinned, that irrepressible, impish grin that hadn"t lost its

core of sweetness from when they were kids. “I"ll show you bush-

fucking,” he murmured, his voice so low Xander had to lean over to hear

him, and Xander replied, his voice suddenly tense.

“You"ve been fucking any bush, and I"ll just fuck you up,” he said,

and instead of taking offense, like he probably should have, Chris looked

at him, his eyes dark, and challenging, and violent.

Xander"s cock was suddenly
very
hard.

Someone said, “Hey, guys, a reunion photograph?” And they

turned toward a series of flashbulbs. Chris"s hand was set behind

Xander, and Xander felt a fumble and a slide into his hip pocket.

“One more?”

There was another series of flashes, and Chris mumbled the suite

number, while Xander was trying not to blink.

170 Amy Lane

The cameras went away, and Chris looked at him and mouthed

“Twenty minutes. I"ll go first,” before sauntering off into the crowd.

Xander had to keep his teeth from chattering.

He looked across the room and found Penny. She and Mandy were

deeply involved in conversation, and he could only dread what they were

saying. If he caught the word “cat” he was out of there, because
no one

got between him and the dogs. Carefully, he made his way to them, and

when he got there, he tried to be as casual as possible.

“I"m going up in a few,” he said quietly. “You both have your

keys, right?”

“Yeah. See you in the morning,” Penny said softly, “but you better

make it early. We"re both on the same floor, but still—”

“It"s a suite,” Xander said, with more confidence than he felt. God.

God. He was really going to do this, and… he couldn"t think. His whole

body ran cold with adrenaline and the next fifteen minutes were a blur as

he made one last pass around the room.

He was practically hyperventilating in the elevator up to the top

floor, and his hands shook as he put the keycard in the lock. The door

hadn"t closed behind him before Chris was there, kissing him savagely,

his hands stripping off Xander"s tux jacket with enough force to rip.

Xander"s hands were shaking as he whirled, practically throwing

Chris into the wall next to the door. He framed Chris"s face and kissed

him, jaw, cheekbone, neck, anywhere, muttering, “No one touches you.

No one touches you but me, you hear me? No one. No one… only me.”

Chris arched his head back so Xander could kiss down the column

of his throat, tickling his Adam"s apple before moving downward, to the

broad expanse of chest revealed by the popping buttons under his shirt.

“Only you,” Chris echoed, running his hands through Xander"s

straight, collar-length hair. “Only you… oh God.” Because Xander had

found his nipple and was sucking on it,
hard,
and for a minute, Chris"s

hands were practically battering at Xander"s shoulders as he fought for

control.

Xander didn"t give him time to get any. He slid down to his knees,

right there on the carpeted floor, and fumbled with Chris"s belt and his

slacks. As his hands pulled down slacks, boxers, everything, he felt the

The Locker Room 171

tremor in Chris"s knees, and an answering one in his shoulders. He"d

been going for target zero, but suddenly, he couldn"t even focus that far.

He buried his face into the taut muscles of Chris"s stomach,

wrapped his arms around his bare, tight backside, and just held there,

Chris"s full, hard erection crushed against his shoulder.

They held that pose for a moment, while Chris touched his hair

with tender fingers, and then Chris"s hips began to undulate, and when

he spoke, his voice was strained.

“Cuddle later, fuck now!” he demanded, and Xander pulled back,

grinned fiercely into his face, and said, “Pushy bottom!” before opening

his mouth and taking Chris in all the way to the back of his throat.

He couldn"t always do that—Chris was really hung—but when he

wanted it bad enough, when he"d been craving the taste of Chris for,

goddammit,
six fucking weeks
, it was easy. Breathing was secondary,

there was no need for breathing when he could have Chris
inside him,

when Chris was panting and begging and thrusting his hips forward and

fucking Xander"s mouth and whimpering… oh God, was that a

whimper? Xander growled and lunged forward, swallowing hard, and

reaching behind Chris to find his favorite place and play with it.

He grunted in surprise when he found the soft, small rubber plug

back there, waiting for him.

“I was afraid you wouldn"t take charge,” Chris grunted when he

felt Xander"s tug on it. In response, Xander wrenched it out without

mercy, and swallowed and swallowed and swallowed when Chris

dumped come down his throat.

Chris was shaking, his knees were trembling, and his fingers went

limp after clenching in Xander"s hair hard enough to hurt. He went

boneless in Xander"s arms as Xander released him and rubbed his cheek

on the tails of Chris"s shirt, but Xander wouldn"t let him.

“I"m gonna fuck you,” he threatened. “I"m gonna strip you, and

take you, and make you scream all over again, you hear me?”

Chris clenched him to his middle again, and whimpered, and

begged. “Please? Oh, God, Xander. I need you… God, I missed you…

just fuck me… need you inside me somehow… don"t care how….”

172 Amy Lane

Chris"s tux hit the ground, and he toed his way out of his shoes as

Xander stripped everything that was left of his own clothes and then…

oh God, he had no idea how it happened, but Chris was naked, facedown

on the king-sized bed, arms helpless at his sides, ass in the air.

Xander pressed down at his shoulders and with a long, solid arm

under Chris"s middle, positioned him perfectly, then grabbed his hips

with hard fingers and—

Oooooooooooooooohhhh….

He slid home, inside Chris"s body, and the entire world stopped,

crystallized, became completely about their merged flesh and the

completed half of his soul. Chris was slick, the toy had been lubed, but

he was strong, and he clamped around Xander"s cock like a hot fist, and

Xander groaned again at the feeling of home, and then absolutely needed

to move.

He did.

He pulled back and snapped forward and again and again and again

and again and
oh my God, “Chris!”

Chris moaned beneath him as Xander fell over his back and

shuddered, spending inside his body while Xander"s toes curled and

calves clenched, and he convulsed and came until his entire body,

tightened to the point of agony, climaxed and released in a rush so hard

he collapsed.

Chris lay flattened, used, barely able to breathe under his bulk, and

laughed maniacally into the comforter.

“Oh God,” he panted, even as Xander rolled sideways and pulled

his mass of muscle flush against Xander"s sweating, replete body.

“God"s not here. I did the best I could.”

Chris gave that manic laugh again. “Bullshit. Of course God"s here.

If you"re here, Xan, God"s here. It"s the only time I know it"s the truth.”

Xander couldn"t help it. His eyes burned, and his breath came

short, and his arms, wrapped around Chris"s shoulders, shuddered, hard,

and the creases of his eyes stung as the tears slid through them and onto

the hotel bed quilt under his head.

Chris wrapped his hand around Xander"s clenched hands, and

brought them up to his mouth to kiss softly.

The Locker Room 173

“Xander? You okay?”

Xander let out a shuddering sigh. “Obviously not,” he muttered.

“Obviously I"m a big stinking baby who can"t even have sex right.”

Chris grunted and shifted in his arms and said, “Get off the covers,

genius, I"m freezing my ass off and my balls are shrinking.”

Xander laughed and passed his hand across his eyes while he was

complying with the orders. “Your balls could stand a good shrink—you

really are hung like a fucking goat, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Chris rolled to his side and burrowed under the

covers, holding the quilt back for Xander to crawl into bed with him.

Xander did, and the feeling of their long, muscled, hairy man legs

twining under the coverlet was enough to make him sigh, releasing that

last bit of tension that he didn"t know was still riding between his

shoulder blades.

As their bodies stopped shivering in reaction, Xander got a good

look at Chris"s big brown eyes, and saw that they were rimmed with red,

and leaking at the corners too. He tried to smile in sympathy, but he

couldn"t. Instead he just caught the steady little trickle down the side of

Chris"s nose with his finger and tried to wipe it off.

“Don"t cry, baby,” he said hoarsely, knowing he was one to talk.

“I"m here.”

They clung to each other under the covers for a long time after that.

They talked, quietly, about stupid things—Clifford"s wife (“
Don"t

spill the potpourri for Chrissakes! Dammit, Edwards, that shit covers up

your man-stink, leave it in the fucking bowl!”),
and about the dogs

(“Max is still loyal, man, but I think you"re going to have to bring a

pocketful of steak cubes if you want to get Mercury out of your sister"s

room. I swear, I think she"s been feeding him bacon in the middle of the

night!”),
and Xander"s harem (“
They"re nice to have around, okay? But

they"re not you. Besides. They keep treating me like some sort of exotic

pet. Come see the big gay basketball player—he"s white, he"s awkward,

and if we “accidentally” use his in-home waxing appointment when he"s

out with the dogs, he"s really really hairy!”).