Better Than Friends (17 page)

I looked up to see concern tinged with a dose of guilt in Jack’s expressive blue eyes. His square, stubbled jaw was set in a firm line. As pissed off as I’d been a minute before, he wasn’t to blame for my fall.

“I’m just your average run-of-the-mill klutz. I’ve sprained my ankle before and I don’t think it’s quite that bad. I rolled it hard, though. I just need to get home, get some ice on it, and elevate it. If I could get a shower in somehow and a six-pack, I’d be set.” I tried for a breezy “been there, done that” approach, but I doubted my distressed tone matched my words. My ankle really fucking hurt.

“Yeah. But I’m sorry if I went overboard. I tend to get a little aggressive when I’m playing.” Jack brushed a finger through my hair in an almost-unconscious gesture meant to soothe. My hair was sweaty. I felt stiff, sore, and just plain gross, but I leaned into his comforting touch. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m having trouble getting a hold of Chels. Should we call a taxi? I mean, none of us drove here, right?” Jason looked distraught as he stood nearby, redialing his phone.

“I did.” Jack leaned back to look over at Jason and Matt. “I can put him on the back of my bike and get him home in no time.”

“Okay, good. And I can ride his bicycle back to his place. I’ll text Aaron. Let him know to just meet me at home. Maybe you and Chels can give me a ride when you get ahold of her, Jase. I’m not sure how long Aaron will be on his run. He was geared up for a long one.” Matt threw a wet towel and a water bottle toward Jack, who started dabbing at my knee. He practically shoved the bottle at me wordlessly, telling me to drink it.

“That’s settled. Your knee should be fine. Let’s get you going. Can you stand?” Jack finished doctoring my knee and stood up over me.

“Is anybody going to ask me what I want to do? Hello? You know… me? The guy laying down here
on the fucking ground?
I’m fine. I just need a moment to regroup. I can ride my bicycle back myself.”

The three of them shared a look, which pissed me off all over again. Insult to injury.

“Curt, honey, think about it.” Jack tried to reason with me in a calm, kind tone he probably used with his young niece and nephew.

“Why are you talking to me like I’m five?” I said through my teeth.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, Jack, thanks for being so thoughtful.’” He stood up and filled my buddies in on his plans for takeover while I silently fumed.

Either no one gave a shit or they were too busy ignoring my sullen, pissy attitude, but I felt like a total invalid as they banded around me, gathering my things before they helped me to my feet and settled me on the back of Jack’s big black Harley. Jack picked up a helmet from his bag and set it gently on my head, fastening it under my chin.

Jack effortlessly took his place in front of me on the bike and revved the engine to life.

“You doin’ okay, honey?” He turned slightly to look at me. “You look a little pale. Hold on tight.”

I nodded listlessly and wrapped my arms around Jack’s midsection without thinking twice. I rested my head against his broad back as he rounded the first corner. He’d changed out of the sweaty T-shirt he’d worn while we played into a fresh one, but I still caught his musky scent. I was one of those weird guys who loved the way a man smelled. Even after exercise.

My focus on Jack and my throbbing ankle kept my attention from the fact we should have been at my apartment by now.

“Where are we going?” I yelled above the bike’s engine. I sat up a little taller in my seat behind Jack, aware of the press of my thighs against his as I tried to get my bearings. We were on M Street heading toward Dupont.

“Jack!” I nudged his side when we stopped at a red light.

“Shh. We’re almost there.”

“Where?” I yelled. He didn’t answer. I was sure he heard me too.

Jack turned on to 15
th
Street. I knew we were somewhere between Logan and Dupont but I couldn’t tell what our destination was. A glance at the neighboring businesses told me this was an upscale section of town with hip cafés and name-brand clothing boutiques catering to a young, affluent crowd. He finally slowed to a stop in front of a walk-up brick Federal-style building. There were businesses on either end, but this appeared to be a residence with neatly trimmed hedges leading to a large black door. Jack’s house?

Jack dismounted and turned to help me do the same.

“Where are we?”

For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. He took both our helmets off and then bent to take a look at my swollen ankle. He finally looked up at me, his face full of concern.

“You okay?”

“Uh, well it hurts, but I… where are we?” I repeated, this time crossing my arms over my chest and trying my best “stop stalling” look.

“My place. My store is in the front, shop in the back, and I live upstairs.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but I got the idea Jack was a little confused himself about why we were here and not back at my place.

“O-kay. But why didn’t you take me home?”

“Your apartment is a mess.” I rolled my eyes, but he continued before I could defend myself. “I can’t think in those conditions and I want to… um… I want to make sure you’re okay. So just… go with it. Please.”

I stared at him, speechless. I wanted to tell him my place was clean, but I understood that wasn’t his real concern. He was asking me to let him take care of me and not make a big deal about it. I wasn’t sure what to think, but with a bum ankle and a torn-up knee I decided to take his advice and go with it. I grasped his hand and used his arm as support as Jack patiently guided me up the path to his front door.

The “store” had obviously once been a beautiful home with wide-plank maple flooring, high ceilings, and tall Palladian-style windows. It looked like it had been recently renovated but left unadorned so that the space resembled an art gallery. The walls were painted a stark white and decorated with professionally rendered color photographs of motorcycles. Some captured the bikes in motion, and others looked like they’d been done for a magazine, with beautiful models both male and female sitting astride or suggestively leaning against the bikes. It was all very interesting. And very unexpected.

A young man with bright auburn hair and a winning smile greeted us, though he looked surprised to see Jack.

“Hi, boss. What are you doing here?” I kept quiet since I’d asked that question too many times already.

“Hey. Uh, Damien, this is Curt. Curt… Damien. We’re just passing through. Everything cool here?”

“Yes. Mr. Duncan came by with his deposit. He asked for you, but I think he was going to try your cell. Are you okay?” Damien looked puzzled by my bedraggled appearance. I caught his once-over and looked down, grimacing at my bloodstained knee. I was obviously leaning hard on Jack’s arm too, so the real answer was no, I wasn’t okay.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

Jack nodded our good-byes and offered a weak smile before tugging lightly at my arm, indicating we were going to keep moving. He led me through the showroom, which I noted was designed to look more like a gallery than a store. There were two state-of-the-art motorcycles in the middle of the floor on slightly raised platforms. One was a tricked-out Harley and the other was a European racing bike. Shelving on one end of the room displayed helmets and some accessories, while a stand-alone kiosk next to it held a large screen computer that flashed photos displaying more motorcycles and accoutrements available for online purchase.

I felt Damien’s shrewd gaze as Jack guided me past him slowly before he made a right turn down a short hallway, at the end of which was a narrow flight of stairs. The small vestibule was awash in sunlight thanks to the generous skylight at the top of the stairs. The walls here were the same white as the rest of the space, but the photographs were more personal in nature. Some looked professionally done, some were candid shots of people. I recognized his sister and her family in a couple. Instinctively I wanted to stop and ask about them, but now wasn’t the time.

“I know what you’re going to say, but listen….”

“No.”

Jack gave me a dirty look and raised his eyebrows. “It will be a hell of a lot faster, and these stairs aren’t wide enough for us to walk up side by side.”

“I can do it myself.” I leaned heavily on the railing and set my good foot on the next step before trying to repeat the action with my injured one. I winced in pain.

“Fuck this. Yell at me later.” Jack picked me up around my middle and tossed me over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. I was too surprised to do much more than gasp.

I was a six-foot-tall man and although I knew I was on the thin side, it had been a very long time since anyone was able or inclined to carry me with such ease. I wasn’t sure I liked it. I hit his back in weak protest and then clued in that the best revenge was a different kind. I reached down and slipped my fingers under the elastic of his workout shorts and briefs to squeeze his bare ass. Jack flinched.

“Cool it!” He smacked my ass in warning, making us both laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

At the top of the landing, there was a sitting area with a comfortable-looking sofa and a large flat-screen television. Jack stopped at a keypad outside of a large steel-framed door and entered a code. He gently lowered me and moved aside so I could hobble before him into what looked to be his private living quarters. There was another sitting area situated directly across from an open-style kitchen with an island. The vibe was somewhere between contemporary and traditional, with modern lighting above the island and a zinc-covered table at the far end of the room. A beautiful Persian rug in inviting blues and reds under the sofa gave the otherwise stark modern room a vibrant glow. And of course the space was impeccably neat and clean. No sign of an errant coffee cup or yesterday’s newspaper lying about.

“Wow. This is great,” I said as I limped toward the island, running my hand along the smooth black granite.

“Hey, hey.” Jack was at my side before I knew it, pulling me gently toward the sofa. “We have to get you off your feet. Lie down here. I’ll bring you an ice pack.”

He kissed my forehead and gave me a slight push to sit. I didn’t budge.

“Wait. I stink. Can I….”

I laughed when Jack started sniffing the air around me like a dog hot on a scent. He grinned back at me and pushed a little harder. I fell back on the sofa cushion but made sure to drag him with me. Jack chuckled but didn’t get off. Instead, he breathed heavily into my neck and licked a trail from the exposed skin near my collarbone to my jaw. I couldn’t decide if knowing I was sweaty from our time on the court made the gesture extremely sexy or kind of gross. I was turned-on, though, and the light fabric of my basketball shorts surely gave me away. Jack hovered over me and kissed me softly before getting up.

“You’re right. You stink.” He couldn’t keep a straight face, though, so I knew he didn’t mind. “Look, you need to relax. Let me take a good look at your ankle.” He sat next to me and removed my shoes and socks before draping my injured leg over his lap.

“Careful!”

“Baby. It’s not horrible, but there is definitely some bruising here. Ice first, then—”

“No, please. I can’t relax until I clean up. Do you mind if I take a quick rinse? And maybe borrow a T-shirt?”

“You’re trying to tell me you suddenly developed a penchant for cleanliness? You? Curtis Townsend?”

“You are a fucking comedian.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m laughing on the inside.”

Jack stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at me with a thoughtful expression.

“Fine. On one condition.”

I scooted forward on the seat and held on to the armrest to stand, relieved to be one step closer to getting out of my grubby clothes.

“What?” I asked absently.

“You shower with me.”

“Uh….” My ankle was throbbing, but now so was my cock. This wasn’t a good idea. “Why? I won’t fall. I’ll be careful and—”

“No. My way or you sit in your sweaty duds, honey.” The twinkle in his eye gave him away. Jack was a merciless tease, but he wasn’t joking: he was issuing a challenge.

I sighed heavily and turned my head to hide my smile. Taking a shower with Jack was literally a wet dream. The mere thought of water sluicing down his muscled, tattooed, god-like body made me feel light-headed.

“Fine.” I tried for nonchalant but my voice rose an octave, so I knew I’d failed.

“Good boy. That’s the right answer.” He mussed my hair playfully before leaning down to scoop me easily in his arms. I cried out in surprise but smiled at the sound of Jack’s deep chuckle resonating through the room.

Everything in the spacious apartment screamed high-end. His bathroom wasn’t huge but it was well-appointed with high ceilings and a long marble countertop paired with opaque glass tiles that made everything seem large and lush. He lowered me slowly and pressed another small kiss on my lips before stepping away to turn on the water in the shower while I leaned on the cool marble.

“Ready?” He slipped his shirt over his head, then lowered his shorts and briefs in one quick motion. I stared at his incredible body, unable to answer. Jack tipped my chin up to look at him. I think I was too turned-on to be embarrassed at being caught staring. Jack was just as aroused as me. He licked his lower lip before reaching out to help me undress. I didn’t stop him. I stood motionless and let him slip my shirt off. My heart raced as he hooked his fingers inside the elastic of my shorts and briefs and lowered them over my ass, never taking his eyes off of mine. I trembled slightly, leaning heavily on my good foot when he sank to his knees, pulling the fabric down to my feet. I held my breath and peeked down just as he stuck his tongue out to lick the head of my semihard cock in a circular motion. I held on with white knuckles to the marble countertop as my body shuddered with desire.

“C’mon, honey. Let’s get you clean.” Jack stood again and captured my mouth in a brief but demanding kiss before helping me into the shower.

There was plenty of room for two in the glass-enclosed space, but my bum ankle wasn’t going to allow us to linger under the warm spray for an extended period. I surrendered to Jack’s ministrations, letting him lather, wash, and rinse us both. He stole kisses intermittently and teased me with his firm, sure hands as he pried his fingers behind my balls and in between my ass cheeks. I gasped and leaned into his touch instinctively.