Swap Meet (4 page)

wanted every minute to count.

Wordlessly, Max held out his hand. Chris grinned and left the bed, taking Max’s

hand and walking with him into the bathroom. They remained silent as Chris turned on

the water and adjusted the knobs to a steamy but not-too-hot temperature. He peeled

away the paper wrapping from a tiny bar of soap and placed it on the ceramic soap

holder. Once inside the shower, they alternated standing beneath the pounding spray.

As they switched positions, their bodies touched, chests sliding, cocks bumping. Chris

wound an arm around Max’s waist and pulled him close. He cupped Max’s face and

brought their lips together in a searching kiss.

Max melted into his embrace. Chris sensed a shift in him. No one could possibly

come to terms with such a life-altering experience in the span of only a few minutes but

Max seemed to accept the surreal nature of their unanticipated tryst. Chris pressed him

back against the cool tile and ravished his mouth, sucking on his tongue and biting

playfully at his lips. He held tight to the back of Max’s neck and ran a hand down his

lover’s side, following the natural curve of his waist to palm a taut buttock. Chris gave a

gentle squeeze and rocked his pelvis, shoving his hard cock against Max’s.

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Swap Meet

The soft groan leaving Max’s lips sent a shiver through Chris. Max responded so

immediately and beautifully to his sensual assault. He’d had his fair share of one-night

stands but never like this. Max welcomed his aggressiveness. Generally the men Chris

picked up—or who picked
him
up—wanted control in these situations. Chris had never

been particularly interested in exclusive bottoming or even playing the submissive in

the bedroom. Instead of give and take, those tumbles in the sack often were a constant

struggle for domination. Chris found those experiences less than satisfying.

And those men never stayed. They came, pulled on their clothes and bolted. That

Max had chosen to linger, to share a shower and late-night breakfast, moved Chris in a

way he couldn’t quite verbalize. Max seemed to possess an intrinsic understanding of

just what Chris craved.

Chris broke away from their kiss and picked up the bar of soap. He lathered it

between his hands and soaped up Max’s chest. His sudsy mitts moved over Max’s lean

body, gliding across the sinews and muscles of his sun-kissed skin. “Do you swim?”

Max seemed startled out of a trance by Chris’ question. “Yes. Daily. You?”

Chris shook his head. “I’m more of a runner and weightlifter.”

“I can tell.” Max ran an appreciative hand over Chris’ shoulders and biceps. He

took the soap and lathered up his hands. They washed one another in silence, fingers

sliding over slick skin. Chris closed his hand around Max’s rigid length and stroked

lazily, the slippery foam coating their skin easing the movement. Max copied his

actions. As their tongues danced erotically, they brought one another to orgasm. Chris’

toes curled against the tub floor as his hips jerked and cum shot through his cock. Max’s

hot seed splashed against Chris’ belly.

Breathing hard, they shared a clinched embrace, Chris carefully walking Max back

under the spray of the showerhead. Water rushed over their bodies. It was a touchingly

intimate moment. Their bodies still vibrated with the effects of their shared orgasms

and Chris noted the flush to Max’s neck. He nipped at the throbbing vein there before

shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower.

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Lolita Lopez

Chris handed Max one of the white towels hanging from the towel bar. His lustful

gaze took in the water droplets clinging to Max’s chest, riding the curve of his belly and

gathering along his happy trail. Max’s eyes seemed glued to Chris’ chest for the same

reason. He fought the silly urge to flex a muscle or two.

A knock at the door interrupted their staring match. As if answering hotel doors

half-naked were a daily occurrence, Max wound a towel around his waist and strode to

the door. Chris toweled off and listened as Max dealt with the delivery of their room

service. Wearing just his towel, Chris left the bathroom and discovered Max setting up

the breakfast tray on the circular table near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Fluffy

pancakes, an omelet overflowing with veggies and cheese, crispy bacon strips, fresh

fruit and orange juice tantalized Chris. His stomach growled noisily.

Max grinned over his shoulder. “Come.”

Chris settled into a chair across from Max. They piled food on their plates and

tucked into the scrumptious fare. Watching Max eat, Chris had the feeling he spent

quite a bit of time in hotels. “Do you travel a lot?”

Max nodded and sipped his juice. “My business takes me many places. Sometimes I

forget what city I’m in when I wake up in the mornings.”

“What do you do?” Chris dragged a wedge of pancakes through a river of syrup.

“Finance.” Max speared a cube of cantaloupe. “I own a holding group with interests

in a variety of sectors.”

“I see.” Chris wasn’t well-versed in the world of investments but he had an inkling

Max was worth more than he could comprehend.

“You work with your hands.”

It wasn’t a question. Chris tilted his head with surprise. “You could say that. I’m a

firefighter and paramedic. How did you know?”

Max showed his palm. “Your hands are rough. They seemed rather out of place

with your suit.”

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Swap Meet

“Gift from my older sister,” Chris explained. “She’s a bank exec. For some reason,

she thinks I need a rack full of suits like that. Personally I think she needs a husband or

a dog to spoil.” Chris shook his head as Max chuckled. “She’s got this crazy notion that

just because I’m gay I have an interest in fashion.”

Max’s smile faltered. He toyed with the food on his plate. “When did you know?”

Chris’ eyebrows lifted. “That I was gay?” Max nodded. “Aw hell.” Chris sighed as

he thought back to his teenage years. “There wasn’t a single profound moment or

anything. When my hormones started to rage, I noticed all the boys rather than the

girls. I tried dating girls in high school but it just wasn’t right. Once I made the move to

Austin and started college, I figured it out.”

A pensive expression crossed Max’s face. “Until tonight, I’d always considered

myself straight. I’ve never been particularly happy with women but I’d never had any

urge to try a relationship with a man.” His gaze pierced Chris. “Until you.”

Chris squirmed uncomfortably. What the hell could he say to that?

“Perhaps I’m bisexual,” Max said curiously.

Chris shrugged dismissively. “Does it matter? Is the label really that important?”

Max considered his question. Whatever tension remained in his body vanished. He

seemed to have an “a-ha” moment. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

Chris smiled and leaned back in his seat. “Well there you go.”

Max exhaled softly, seemingly relieved. His finger circled the rim of his juice glass.

“Are you out?”

Chris pulled a face. “It’s complicated.”

“Because of your job?”

Chris nodded stiffly. “I work with some really great guys and gals. Most of them

are live-and-let-live types but a few of them? Well…” He grimaced. “It’s just easier to

keep my private life as private as possible.”

“Is that why you come to these swap meets?”

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Lolita Lopez

“Yes. But I’ve only been here twice,” he added, not wanting Max to have the wrong

idea about him. “Anonymous sex isn’t really what I want but at the moment it’s the best

alternative I have. Sometimes I drive down to Austin and see some, uh, friends there.

Guys I’ve known for years.”

“I understand.”

And he did. Chris could see it in Max’s eyes. He was such a wondrously open man,

so fluid and accepting. Chris wondered if he’d ever meet anyone like this again.

“I should go.” Max’s tone was apologetic as he rose from his chair. “I have a

morning flight.”

Chris sat still and watched Max dress. He was meticulous, his movements so

smooth they were obviously second nature. Longing gripped Chris’ belly.

Embarrassingly, he wanted to ask Max if he’d ever see him again.
How pathetic
, he

thought with annoyance.

When Max had finished dressing, Chris walked him to the door. Max paused

uncertainly, his hand on the knob. He caught Chris’ gaze, stunning Chris with the

vulnerability reflected there. “I’d like to see you again.”

Chris swallowed his surprise. “Would you?”

“Not like this,” Max hastily amended. He gestured to the bed. “Nothing so

tawdry.”

Chris tingled with excitement, his stomach flip-flopping like that of a teenage boy

about to score his first date. He grabbed a piece of hotel stationery and scribbled his

name and cell number on it.

Max folded the slip of paper in his manicured fingers and pocketed it. “I’ll call you

when I’m next in town.”

“I’d like that.” Chris wavered on the verge of stepping forward to kiss Max one last

time. Max seemed to share his indecision. He rocked a bit, as if terrified to make a

move. Throwing caution to the wind, Chris clasped Max’s face and nuzzled their noses

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Swap Meet

together. Max’s shuddered breath buffeted his lips a mere second before Chris claimed

them. They shared a tender, all-consuming kiss before separating.

“Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, Max.”

As the door shut behind Max, Chris collapsed against it, the metal cold against his

bare back. Knees wobbling, he braced his palms against the door. Christ, what a night!

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Lolita Lopez

With a startled gasp, Max shot up off his pillow. His calves and thighs clenched and

relaxed as cum splashed his belly. He sucked air deep into his lungs. Head pounding,

he wiped a hand down his face and collapsed back against the bed. Another wet dream.

Another teasing vision of Chris rocking his world.

For the last three weeks, Max hadn’t been able to shake Chris from his mind.

During the day, his thoughts drifted constantly to Chris and interfered with his work.

At night, Chris taunted him, invading his dreams with promises of mind-blowing sex.

Max was slowly approaching the end of his rope. He had to get back to Houston—and

soon.

Max rolled out of bed and strode into his bathroom. He stepped into a hot shower

and scrubbed clean. The smell of soap, the steam of the water, brought to mind another

shower all those nights ago. Eyes closed, Max could fool himself into believing the

soapy hand gliding across his chest belonged to Chris. As Max stroked his stiff cock, he

imagined Chris on his knees, mouth open and accepting his rigid length. He pumped

his hips, sliding his dick over Chris’ velvety tongue. The suction of Chris’ hot, greedy

mouth drove Max wild. With a sharp gasp, Max came, his fingers working the head of

his cock until he couldn’t stand another second of stimulation.

Max placed his forehead against the tile. He watched the sudsy water swirling

around his toes. Not another night. He couldn’t survive another night without Chris.

Mind settled, Max left the shower and prepared for his morning swim. Impatient to

hear Chris’ voice, he swam away his frustration in his private pool. He’d calculated the

time difference between Paris and Houston. He was certain Chris wouldn’t welcome

such an early phone call.

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Swap Meet

Once in his office, Max called in his assistant and had her clear his schedule for the

rest of the week. He was expected in Tokyo by Sunday evening but that gave him three

days in Houston. He sensed Michele was curious to know why he needed a flight to

Houston and a penthouse suite. He’d concluded all his business in Houston during his

last trip. Thankfully Michele knew better than to pry. Once he’d given his instructions,

she hurried from his office to make the necessary arrangements. Max didn’t doubt for a

second she’d come through beautifully.

Relaxed by the thought of seeing Chris again, Max managed to concentrate fully on

his work. There were minor emergencies to see to regarding the Middle Eastern

markets and media rumors to tamp down about his interests in India. It was always

something. Desperate to have a few peaceful days to himself, Max dealt with

everything that crossed his desk efficiently and completely. He wouldn’t have Michele

interrupting his mini-holiday in Houston with phone messages from this executive or

that. Once he left Paris, he would trust his people to do their jobs.

As his private car wound through the busy Parisian streets that evening, Max ran a

finger across the slip of paper bearing Chris’ name and number. He’d touched it so

many times since leaving Houston the paper felt worn and thin in places. The edges of

the scrawled letters and numbers looked fuzzy. His heart catapulted into his throat as

he dialed the number with shaky fingers. The headset clipped to his ear sounded with a

ring tone. Max’s belly quivered with anticipation.