Quiet Storm, Season 2, Episode 6 (Rising Storm) (7 page)

And then Scott moved lower still, his lips at the waistband of Jeffry’s khaki shorts and his hand cupping his erection, which, miraculously, got even harder. He was gasping, head thrown back, just trying to rein in all the sensations. He thought vaguely that he should be doing something, too, but all he could manage was to let it all in, these new feelings that were swirling around inside him like a raging storm that he never, ever wanted to blow out.

But then Scott’s fingers unfastened the button and started tugging down his zipper and, damn him, Jeffry tensed up. “Scott, I—”

“I get it.” Scott’s voice was as gentle as the hand cupping his cock. “This is your first time.”

“Oh, man. Is it that obvious?”

“Nothing wrong with that. I like being your first.” He paused, looking deep into Jeffry’s eyes. “I want to make you feel good.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay.” Scott’s smile was as reassuring as his voice. “I do. All you have to do is tell me to stop if I go too far.”

“Okay,” he said.
You won’t
, he thought.

And even as the word lingered in the air, Scott finished unzipping him. Jeffry still wore his briefs, but he could feel the cool air now, and then the heat of Scott’s hands as he tugged down Jeffry’s shorts and underwear. And then he was bare and hard and exposed, and he should be burning up with embarrassment, but instead he just felt heat and desire and frustration because Scott wasn’t touching him yet.

“Please,” he whispered, amazed at his own audacity.

Scott didn’t answer aloud, but then his hand closed over Jeffry’s shaft, and his breath was hot on his balls, and then Scott’s tongue was teasing up his cock, and Jeffry’s whole body went stiff with anticipation. And then he was gasping as Scott’s lips teased the tip and as—oh, gosh, oh wow—he took Jeffry in, slow and deep, his tongue doing the most amazing thing as he sucked and as Jeffry clawed the threadbare material of that dreadful couch.

Scott was brilliant and relentless. Teasing him. Playing him. Hands and mouth touching and stroking, pulling and sucking, and even though Jeffry wanted it to go on and on and on, he couldn’t hold on. It was like being thrown off a building into thin air, except instead of landing flat on the ground, he grew wings and soared, higher and higher until he cried out in pleasure and abandon as—
yes
—he touched the sun and his body exploded into a million tiny stars.

When he could finally see straight again, he whispered, “Wow,” which hardly seemed adequate, but it was the only word he could form.

Scott eased up his body, then lay beside him on the couch, his hand on Jeffry’s stomach. Gently, he leaned over and pressed his lips to Jeffry’s. “Okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay. I may never move again.” He licked his lips, then used the last of his energy to shift to his side. Slowly, he reached down for Scott’s still-hard cock. “I should...”

Scott pressed his own hand over Jeffry’s. “No. Not this time. Today was about you.”

“But?”

“How about I take a rain check? I’d like to see you again. And I really should get going. It’s a hell of a drive back to College Station.”

“Oh.” Jeffry vacillated from being disappointed that Scott was leaving to excited about meeting him again. “Well, when?” he asked, then immediately wanted to kick himself. What if Scott was only being nice? What if he couldn’t care less about seeing Jeffry again?

“Tomorrow would work for me,” Scott said, his smile erasing all Jeffry’s fears. “But it’s a little impractical. Any chance you can drive into Austin next Saturday?”

“Austin?”

“There’s a benefit for the Trevor Project—it helps homeless and at-risk LGBT kids. It’s at a bar called Oil Can Harry’s, but the event’s open to all ages. I’m coming in for the night. Have a hotel room all to myself and everything.”

“Oh. I—”

“You don’t have to answer now. But think about it. You’re planning on going to UT, right?”

“Well, I haven’t applied yet, but it’s my top pick.”

“So it’d be good for you to get to know some locals. And get familiar with the local clubs.” He climbed off the couch, then headed back into the bathroom. When he came out, he was holding his clothes. He stripped down and changed right in front of Jeffry. Somehow, Jeffry managed not to whimper.

“Here,” Scott said, grabbing a pen and paper off the little table by the couch. He scribbled something, then handed it to Jeffry. “My address and cell number. Text me and let me know if you’re coming. I really hope you do.”

He bent over and kissed Jeffry, who was still limp and happy and melancholy all at once. Then he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back.

“And Jeffry? I had a really great time.”

* * * *

Lacey sat in her car outside Mallory’s house, trying to decide if she should text her former best friend or just go knock on the door.

In the past, she might not even have knocked. Just rushed inside shouting out that she had to talk to Mallory. That it was important. And Mallory would drop everything, and they’d go sit in the backyard on the rusty old swing set or walk around the neighborhood chatting.

Either way, it would be easy.

Today wasn’t easy. All the more so because Lacey knew that Hector was back in town. She’d never liked Mallory’s father, even though he was always charming to her. Too charming. Like Uncle Sebastian, except Hector seemed hard underneath where Uncle Sebastian just seemed smarmy. And Lacey knew that Mallory was a little afraid of her dad, and even thought he hit her mom.

She wondered if that had gotten worse since Hector came back, and her heart twisted knowing that whatever was going on in that house, Lacey hadn’t been there for Mallory to spill her heart out.

Well, that was going to change right now.

She turned off the ignition, then reached for the door handle. As she did, the Alvarez front door opened and Hector burst out, shouting back, “I can’t hear myself think with that damn vacuum cleaner. I’m gonna go grab a beer, and when I get back this wreck of a room better be livable. Not a fucking living room if I can’t even get comfortable there, now is it?”

His car was parked at an odd angle to the curb, and since Lacey knew that he usually parked by the garage behind the house, she assumed that meant he’d come home drunk last night.

She slid down a bit in her seat, and when he’d driven off without noticing her, she gathered her courage, got out of the car, and strode to the front door.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked three times. She shifted back and forth on her heels, hating how awkward she felt, and holding on tight to the gift she’d brought as a peace offering.

She was just about to knock again when she heard someone approach the door. It opened slowly, and she saw Mrs. Alvarez peer out, looking pensive at first—almost scared—and then smiling broadly when she saw who it was.

“Lacey! Oh my goodness, it’s been forever. How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay. I’ve been—” She cut herself off with a shrug. “Actually, I’ve been kind of a mess.”

“And who could blame you?” Mrs. Alvarez said. She pulled Lacey into her arms, and Lacey let herself be hugged, only then realizing how much she needed a mom.
Her mom
, but for now Joanne Alvarez would do.

Joanne released her gently, then looked at her face. “Are things starting to get better?”

“I guess. That’s kind of why I’m here. I was hoping to see Mallory.”

“She’s in her room. I think she’s reading.” Her smile was soft. “You know the way.”

Lacey hesitated.

“Go on, honey,” Joanne said encouragingly. “I think it will be okay.”

“Really? I’ve been kind of impossible.”

“Well, we all are sometimes. And while I can’t say for certain what Mallory will do when she sees you, I am certain that neither one of us will know until you try.”

She was right about that. And so with a nod and a deep breath for courage, Lacey headed through the small living room toward Mallory’s room. The door was shut, and Lacey half-considered racing out the back door without knocking or saying good-bye to Mrs. Alvarez.

But now wasn’t the time to be a coward. She’d come with a mission, and she couldn’t chicken out now.

Steeling herself, she rapped on the door using the same pattern she, Mallory, and Luis had used for knocking at each other’s doors for years. There was a brief pause, then Mallory yanked open the door, her face lit up. “Hey, Luis! I didn’t know—
oh.
Lacey.”

“Hi.” She shoved the gift bag at Mallory. “That’s for you. It’s, you know, a peace offering?” She said the last like a question.

Mallory’s forehead scrunched up, and she opened the bag and pulled out the baby blue tank top that Lacey had gone back to purchase. She looked at it, sighed, then put it back inside the shopping bag from Pink. “What do you want, Lacey?”

Lacey resisted the urge to bite her lip. “I just really want to talk to you. Something’s happened, and I—well, I kind of need my best friend.”

For a second, Mallory’s expression softened and she looked—what?—almost hopeful? But then a cloud seemed to cross over her face, and she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, Lace. I mean, you—”

“Were a bitch. I know. Believe me, I know. And if this were just about me, I swear I’d just walk away if you aren’t ready. But it’s about Jeffry.”

As she’d hoped, that got Mallory’s attention. “What? Has something happened to Jeffry?”

Lacey glanced over her shoulder. “Can we go inside? I, um, don’t really want anyone to overhear.”

“Oh.” Mallory’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, letting Lacey enter the familiar room.

“You got some new posters. And I like the picture of you and Luis.”

Mentioning Luis was probably a mistake, because Mallory suddenly went tense. Not that Lacey could blame her. After all, best friends weren’t supposed to steal each other’s boyfriends. But Lacey had gone completely off the rails. If Mallory never forgave her, Lacey figured that was fair.

But she hoped for the best anyway.

“What about Jeffry?” Mallory asked, apparently not in a forgiving mood.

“I saw something,” she said. “But Mal, can I say I’m sorry again? I just—I just miss you and Luis so much, and I know I screwed up, and I’ve been wanting to tell you that and apologize, but I’ve been so afraid that you’d just tell me to go to hell.”

Mallory sat on the edge of her bed. “I might. You’d deserve it.”

“I know.” She looked around and then sat on Mallory’s vanity stool. When Mallory didn’t immediately tell her to get her ass off her furniture, Lacey chalked up one tiny victory.

“So why now?”

“I told you. I’m worried about Jeffry.”

Mallory sucked her cheeks in and nodded. “Okay, then. Get on with it. Tell me why.”

“I—I saw—oh, hell. Did you know that Jeffry’s gay?”

From the way Mallory’s eyes went wide, Lacey guessed she hadn’t had a clue either.

“How do you know?”

“I saw something I wasn’t supposed to,” Lacey admitted, and then told Mallory the whole story, starting with how she’d gone to Jeffry’s because she felt so crappy after bumping into the three of them on the square yesterday.

“He doesn’t know I saw anything,” she added, after she’d finished the story. “And it’s not like I care. I don’t. But Uncle Sebastian and Marylee—”

“Yeah,” Mallory agreed. “No wonder Jeffry never said anything. His father gets wind of this, and it’s gonna be hell.”

“So what do we do?”

“We’ll go get Luis, and then we’ll go see Jeffry together.” Mal met Lacey’s eyes. “He needs to know his friends have his back. All his friends.”

“Oh. Okay,” Lacey said, trying not to burst into tears like a baby.

“And Lacey?” Mallory added with a tentative smile, “I really do like the shirt.”

Chapter 8

As far as Brittany was concerned, enough was enough.

They’d just finished an amazing dinner at Farm to Table, and while it had been wonderful to just spend time with Marcus, she couldn’t help but resent the distance that still lingered between them. Not physical distance—on that score they were as close as two people could be.

No, what Brit hated was the emotional distance. Not because they’d had a fight. Not because they didn’t care about each other.

But because their arms didn’t reach far enough around the elephant in the room to let them truly come together.

They had some sort of weird tacit agreement not to talk about where their relationship was going or what they wanted or how they were going to get together, and this irritating silence had popped up after that scene with Marcus’s mom and dad on the square—and, of course, with her father and grandmother’s constant, vocal disapproval.

And so instead of being truly close, lately they’d been romantically polite.

She even knew exactly what the agenda was for after dinner. They’d go someplace private, like maybe the lake, maybe into the hills. They’d make love, and it would be incredible and wonderful and Brit would feel lighter than air and safe in Marcus’s arms.

And then she’d go home and feel like she had to walk on glass because god forbid she made a big deal out of dating Marcus.

Well, she was tired of it.

Tonight, things were going to change.

“Give me your keys,” she said, holding her hand out to an amused Marcus.

“What? You think I’m going to let you drive? That car’s my baby.”

She put her free hand on her hip, snapped the fingers of her outstretched hand, and waited.

He grinned and passed her the keys. “A woman on a mission. I like that.”

“You have no idea,” she said, tossing her hair as he opened the driver’s door for her.

“So where are we going?”

“Guess you’ll find out, won’t you, mister?”

She saw the amusement in his eyes. But it was heat that flared when she pulled up outside a room at a small motel, right on the outskirts of town. It was a ramshackle old place, but clean enough on the inside. And it was a true motel, where you could park right in front of your room.

She’d checked in before dinner, and now she pulled the room key from her purse and waved it in the air.