Sidelined (20 page)

“I was protected in the hospital. They couldn’t get past security, but since I got home last night, I’ve seen them cruising by. This is the third time someone has knocked since lunch. Fourth, counting Dylan, and I almost didn’t let him in. How did you get in? Please tell me you locked the door.” Levi swung to face him, his eyeliner was smeared under both eyes, where he’d wiped at tears. His mouth looked like he’d had collagen injections, pink gloss trailed down his chin from Tracy’s mouth.

“You look like you’ve been mugged by the Avon lady.” Tracy couldn’t help laughing. Levi cocked his hip against the bannister and puckered up.

“You’re the hottest Avon lady who’s ever fucked me. So shut up. And I don’t care. I’m tired of dealing with this shit. If they want an interview, I’ll damn well give them the interview of a lifetime.” Tracy braced himself against the wall, his attention riveted to the outline of Levi’s dick as it stretched over his groin to his hip. Oh hell, Liv was going to out himself to all of New Orleans, and there wasn’t one damned thing Tracy was going to do to stop him.

Levi just nodded and jogged down the remaining stairs. He unlocked the deadbolts and threw the door open. “What the fuck do you want? I’m busy trying to get laid.”

*

The female reporter held out her microphone, but her face was frozen in disbelief. There were two other news cameras besides the lucky girl who just happened to be the one at the top of the steps. No one said a thing. He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. He resisted the pull of pain, refusing to give them the pleasure of seeing him wince.

“Well? You came here, now ask me a question so I can get back inside. I left a hot man waiting.”

“Uh. Levi Brody?” she said after a moment of looking at the others gathered for help.

“Sometimes. But you can call me Liv right now.”

“Liv? As in Liv St. Cinq?” The cameraman from the local station looked around the eye piece. He looked vaguely familiar.

“That would be me. Have we met, Sugar? I would say I never forget a face, but that would be a lie.” Levi smiled when the young man flushed red.

“No, but…I’ve heard of you.”

“Anyone on the club scene has heard of me.”

“I saw you dance last month. At the—“

“Tommy!” His reporter finally found her voice.

“Sorry, but he’s a great dancer. I just…Liv St. Cinq and Levi Brody—“

“Are the same person, honey. I’m not obligated to keep my queer under wraps anymore. So this is it. This is what I am. Take it or leave it. Doesn’t destroy my records. Or my championship wins. I can’t play, but I can still dance. It’s a fair trade. Don’t you think…Tommy?” He felt Tracy’s heat at his back and leaned back just as Tracy wrapped his arm around his waist.

“Come back to bed, Liv,” Tracy tucked his face into Levi’s neck, he was laughing too hard to do more than that. Levi could feel his body shaking from trying to keep it together.

He tilted his head and purred for the camera. “In a minute, baby, these people want to interview me. Because I supposedly raped some girl. And they don’t understand that the charges were unfounded. Because I’m gay. Is that why you’re here? Because the media had me guilty as charged and just can’t let it go? You see I couldn’t have done what I was accused of because I was busy doing this fine specimen of manhood behind me. Now if you’ll excuse me, my baby needs seeing about. I trust you can close the gate on your way out of my courtyard.”

Tracy laughed harder, almost causing him to break character. The cameraman Tommy beamed a grin and kept on filming while his reporter just stood there with her jaw slack. The national crew was the first to leave. Levi didn’t wait to see who was next; he stepped into Tracy’s arms and let him pull him inside. He closed the door and threw home the bolts, then found himself pressed hard against the thick wood panel.

“You are incredible.” Tracy stepped in front of him, his body heat radiating over Levi. “So fucking incredible.” Two very insistent hands roamed his body, his workout pants sliding down his legs as Tracy knelt in front of him. His blue eyes soft, almost dreamy as he looked up at Levi.

“So are you. Suck me, Blondie. Show me how much you love me.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. The light left Tracy’s eyes as memory of that night a couple weeks ago shimmered unspoken between them.

“You remember that night?” He swallowed, resting his chin on Levi’s hip.

“Some of it.” He ran his hand through Tracy’s hair and around to stroke his face. “Enough to know you had me so fucking hard before we even left the bar I could barely walk. You didn’t leave me. I remember that. You’ve been there for me when no one else was, twice before I even knew your name. Yeah, I remember, enough to know it’s you I want.”

Tracy blinked rapidly and nodded. Levi expected him to stand up and say it was all a mistake. He’d thought so many times since Tracy had walked through his bedroom door that he was dreaming and that Tracy wasn’t really here with him. Applying eyeliner. Listening to him whine about his pitiful childhood. He gasped at the first touch of tongue on his dick. Looking down, he met Tracy’s gaze, his tongue flat against the underside of his crown, mouth open. As if waiting for permission.

“Please,” was all Levi could think to say. And Tracy did. Oh, fuck, his mouth felt like heaven and hell all in one magnificent package. Levi held onto the doorknob with his left hand and the top of Tracy’s head with his right. Tracy watched him. “I love your eyes. Your mouth. Your body. The way you lose your temper when you’re flustered. I love watching you on a tackle sled. Your ass is so fucking hot. I love the sounds you make when you fuck me. I love that you fight with me, and I love the way you make up with me. I love you, Tracy. I love you so fucking much.”

The admission came from his gut and cost him the heat wrapped around his dick. “Say it again.” Tracy braced himself in front of Levi, just as he’d done that day in his office. His height making Levi feel small. But never intimidated. “Say I love you again.”

“I love you.” Levi stood on his toes and swept his tongue into Tracy’s mouth. He wrapped one arm around his neck, and using every ounce of strength he had left, he lifted himself off the floor and wrapped his legs around Tracy’s waist. “I love you. Take me upstairs and make love to me. Or right here against the door. I don’t care. I just want you to make me yours.”

“My bitch?” More from the night in his trailer. He’d be Tracy’s bitch if that’s what he wanted.

But he wanted more. He’d been someone’s bitch. “Make me your lover. I’ve never been a lover. Or a boyfriend. I’ve always been the bitch. I want to be your—“

“Everything. Levi, you’re my everything.” Tracy hefted him close to his body, and with very little effort, he carried him up the stairs. Levi sighed when his back hit the soft comforter on his bed.

“I can live with that.” He tugged at Tracy’s shirt while Tracy wriggled out of his shorts. The drapes were open and night was falling. It was Friday night in the French Quarter. And Levi had everything he ever wanted right here. “Oh, god yes, I can live just like this. Love you, Tracy Wright. So fucking much.”

“Love you, L.” Tracy sighed against his mouth. Because he really did understand him. Everything about him. He sighed and let his lover take him into the end zone.

The End

Offside Chance

By Mercy Celeste

Book 3 in The Southern Scrimmage Series

Coming November 2013

Chapter One

The taxi pulled up in front of Levi Brody’s Royal Street townhouse. Jude leaned out the window to take in the old building he’d helped Levi…Liv buy. It wasn’t in the best part of the French Quarter, but it was the nicest house on the block. A small courtyard set it back from the sidewalk; it held the old world charm of antique brick and coral stucco accents. The garden was well tended. A couple of cast iron urns filled with leftover Christmas poinsettias flanked the door. He paid the driver, tipping him well to carry his bags to the door.

“Thanks, Mr. Brody.”

He just nodded; he was used to it. Though lately he was sure people were wondering why he didn’t have a pink Mohawk or the diamond earrings that Levi…Liv, fuck he’d never get used to thinking of his brother by that name. He was trying.

“No. Thank you,” he waved the driver on, and taking out the key Levi...Liv gave him this morning, he let himself in.

The downstairs entry was just as narrow as Jude remembered it. He hadn’t been here in years, but the size didn’t change. The stairs to the two upper floors started here, a corridor led back to the parlor and kitchen. The second floor was taken up by Levi’s weight room and an entertainment den. Third floor had the two bedrooms and one full bath. He remembered Levi mentioning having a powder room installed under the stairs on the first floor. The place was small but Levi loved it.

He left his bags in the entry and went through the first floor to the kitchen. Dirty dishes were everywhere. Food spilled on the floor, a blender sat on the small island with what looked like green ooze slopped down its side. Fresh green ooze. Jude froze. He started to pull his phone from his pocket to call the cops when the plumbing made rattling noise that Levi had complained about for years. He wasn’t alone.

Phone in hand, he unlocked it only to notice the missed text messages, all from Levi. He opened the last one.
Dammit, Judah, just don’t freak out when you get there. He’s a friend, and I forgot he was staying there. Don’t call the cops. And for fucksake don’t pepper spray him or whatever it is you might do.

“Fuck, Levi, that would have been helpful a couple hours ago,” he said the moment his brother answered the phone. “You drove me to the airport, and you couldn’t remember you were letting someone housesit. Come on, Levi, you know I hate living with people.”

“Judah…you’re breaking up…” and he was, he could hear the static over the line. “I’m in the middle of nowhere looking for I have no damned idea what, and I might lose you.”

Tracy was taking one of his boys up to T-town to tour the school. They were driving. Jude had forgotten that in his haste to board the private plane he’d hired to fly him over. No commercial flights flew from Mobile to New Orleans. He did not know that when he decided to leave his car at home. He knew from experience that it was easier and cheaper to take public transportation here, and he didn’t want his car going missing from the street.

“Just tell me his name, and that he knows I’m coming.” The gun clicking told him that was a negative. “Levi, he has a gun.” He shouted into the phone. “There’s a big wet scary knuckle dragger with a gun aimed at my head.”

“Sounds like my idea of a Saturday night.” Liv said. He could tell it was Liv and not Levi. In the months since he discovered his brother had a split personality, the shock of Liv was nowhere near wearing off. “His name is William Slater. We call him Slayer. Put me on speaker and hold it out so he can hear.”

“I’m putting Levi on speaker, please don’t shoot me.” He held both hands up like on television and pressed the button on his phone so that Levi could talk his friend into putting down the gun.

“Slayer, this is my brother. Jude, this is Slayer. His house burned down the day after Christmas. I told him he needed to get the wiring checked, but he didn’t listen. He’s staying. And Slayer, Jude is taking a class at Tulane this semester. He’s staying. Please don’t kill him. He kept me out of prison.”

“And tell him to put some clothes on.” Jude kept his eyes straight ahead at a spot over Slayer’s shoulder. Because he was naked. Completely naked.

“Come on, Jude, it’s just man meat. It won’t hurt you, sweetie. Maybe do you some good. Take the stick out of your ass and maybe find something more pleasurable fits just fine.”

“Goddamn it, 501, shut that shit up. I’m no fudge packer.”

“But you have a beautiful dick.” Levi laughed on the other end of the line.

“Don’t antagonize him, Levi. He doesn’t look happy about the compliment.”

“Straight boys. I have never understood straight boys. Can’t even give them a compliment without them getting all offended. Except there are those that come looking for a little sumpin sumpin on the side. They still have no sense of—“ His phone went dead mid-cackle. Or Levi disconnected. His Liv personality was unpredictable at best.

“Please put the gun down.” Jude waited for the hulking behemoth to do something. Anything. He finally lowered the gun and without saying a word turned and walked back the way he came. Jude watched the muscles in his ass as he walked. How someone that big could move like that was a mystery to him. When he was alone, he pulled out a chair and slumped over the table. His heart racing ninety to nothing.

About Mercy Celeste:

Mercy Celeste is the pen name and super hero persona of mild mannered MJ Colbert....which is bull, I'm not mild mannered. I was, in fact, raised in a barn--or several. We even had grain silos. My motto growing up, anything a boy can do, I'm right behind him doing it just as well or better. I've broken too many bones to begin to count. Scraped, skinned or scarred pretty much everything that can be scraped, skinned or scarred. How I'm still walking and talking is a miracle.

So about the writing, well, I don't really consider myself to be a writer. I'm a storyteller, and when I have a story to tell, it won't rest until it's twisted me up and purged itself. The result is at times comical or tragic, depending on the people who live in my head and what they have to say. Most days that's not a lot of anything. Others I can't shut them up. They especially love when I'm driving, oh, yeah, a drive across town is a lesson in how not to get myself killed or be pulled over for reckless driving. And those are the good days.

Welcome to my crazy world, if it's boring now, wait five minutes, and don't blink. Things have a tendency to get interesting around me.

Other Books by Mercy Celeste

Available from Liquid Silver Books

Wicked Game