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Evan
pounded his ass as he looked on. He was close, too, but he wanted
to see Cree shoot first. He needed to see Cree shoot.
Cree’s grunts came in time with each tug to his cock. “Fuck, yeah. Do it, Cree. Let me see your load.”
Cree’s eyes slitted, his neck arched, each tendon going tight as
his mouth hung open in loud groaning pants. Evan pulled out and
slammed in.
“Do it. Show me your sweet cum while I’m in your ass,” Evan
commanded.
Cree’s head pressed into the pillow. With a sharp cry, cum
sprayed thickly over Evan’s chest. It was exactly what Evan
needed. Two more thrusts and he hissed as he filled the condom,
his full attention on Cree’s parted, perfect lips.
Evan gently shrugged off Cree’s legs. They hit the mattress
hard and Cree laughed. It wasn’t often that Evan got to see him
that relaxed and easy. It was a good look for him. Evan leaned
down and kissed his neck.
“I’m going to be sore for a week,” Cree mock-complained. “Or longer, depending on how long you want this to run.” Cree’s brows drew together slightly. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, movie star Cree Radek just let his nobody assistant fuck him. How long before the paparazzi gets wind of this and
denials get issued?”
“I don’t share my personal life.”
“Neither do I, but you’re a public figure.”
Cree rolled away from him. Evan scrambled to hold onto the
base of his condom. He sighed and went to the bathroom to clean
up. The bright bathroom lighting, compounded by the skylight
high overhead, made a stark contrast from the lush, dark tones of
the bedroom. Evan turned on the tap and washed up.
“I just mean that public figures aren’t always in control of the
information that gets out there,” Evan said.
Cree appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame on one
hand. “There has to be a leak first. Are you planning on being a
leak?”
“No.” Evan’s exasperation sharpened his tone.
He wetted a cranberry colored washcloth and handed it to Cree.
Then he shook water droplets off his hands, turned off the faucet,
and dried them on the thick matching towel.
“Besides, if we have a thing going on, don’t you think people
might notice after a while?” Evan added.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then what happens if I screw up? I’m not used to public
scrutiny.”
“But you’re a master at regulating your features. Regulate them
in public,” Cree finished. He tossed the used washcloth on the
countertop and walked back to the bedroom.
Evan followed him. “Why am I the bad guy all the sudden?” Cree looked at him flatly. All the tenderness of mere minutes
ago had vanished.
“What? I’m being realistic.”
“You’re being a dick,” Cree countered. He pulled a clean shirt
from his dresser and put it on. Foregoing underwear, he dragged on
his black jeans.
Evan stalked to him. “You’re the one who’s fucking with my
head.”
Cree’s gaze dropped to Evan’s head .
“At least give me some credit for understanding how things
work.”
“Please, share with the class,” Cree snapped.
“I’m not expecting anything from you. Nothing. I’ve been here
long enough to see the life you have to lead. Parties, women, men,
contracts, long nights and quick mornings, shoots, publicity
appearances, interviews—you name it, you have to do it.” “And?”
“You don’t have to coddle me or worry about hurt feelings. I
get it. You can’t commit, especially to someone who isn’t in the
biz. Especially to someone who has no impact on your career. It
sounds harsh, but we both know it’s true.” Evan folded his arms
across his chest.
“Put your clothes on.”
“No. I’m talking right now.”
“You’re saying a lot of bullshit is what you’re doing,” Cree
argued. He faced off with Evan, hands on his hips. Like this,
Cree’s smeared eyeliner made him look dangerous, not seductive.
Nothing had changed, but everything had changed.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be happy about
having convenient sex