Fan-Tastic Page 5
“I wish I could, but I…” Blake trailed off, looking at his feet.
Deke wanted to scream and use every bit of manipulation in his power to make Blake change his mind and let go of his pride. In the end, Deke knew he couldn’t do that, though, because if he did then he’d be no better than Blake’s jerky parents.
“Comic book boy! Wait up!” Linda called as she came running across the lobby.
She wore a tight top that ensured that every man, aside from Deke and Blake, ogled her breasts and a skirt that was so short it could have passed as a scarf. At that moment though, she was the most beautiful thing Deke had seen because, going by the look on her overly made-up face, she’d come up with something.
“His name is Blake,” Deke mentioned as she came to a breathless stop beside them.
She held up a finger as she panted. Finally, she ran her hands through her hair and smiled. “Wow! That was a much tougher run than the ones my personal trainer puts me through.”
Deke cocked a brow, but didn’t call her out on that fib. The only thing that she ever did that could pass for exercise was moving on the dance floor. But since she was going out of her way to literally save his love, Deke decided not to mention that little bit of info.
She held out a piece of paper to Blake. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” he asked, his brows drawn together in confusion.
“It’s from some club owner. He just bought a new place and wants to redesign it, go all weird and cool with a whole graffiti/comic book thing on all the walls. It’s going to take a while, since he wants only you to be in charge of the work, but he’s offering a pretty good commission.”
Blake opened the paper, his eyes widening as he studied it. The money must be pretty good indeed. “But…but why would he want me?”
She gave him a triumphant smile. “He saw your comic book and fell in love with your style. The only question is—can you make the pictures bigger than the little boxes on the pages?”
Blake, bless his heart, didn’t shoot her a ‘duh’ look. Instead, he just gave her a huge grin. “Thanks.”
“So, does that mean you’ll say yes? He wants you to fly out to LA right away to start.”
Blake opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly thrown off kilter by the news. “I don’t know…I really can’t pass up the opportunity…but my mom…”
“Has her damn cats. It’s about time she shared you with rest of the world,” Deke cut in.
Blake started, looked over at him with a shocked expression. “But where will I stay?”
“With me, by my side, where you belong.” When Blake looked like he was going to argue, Deke rushed forward and put his hands on his shoulders. Looking deep into his gaze, Deke finally let it all out because at this point he had everything to lose. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Blake said, before breaking the spell by continuing. “But what if I go out there and it doesn’t work out? I don’t want to always be the needy one in our relationship. My mother was like that with my dad and look how they turned out.”
Deke tightened his grip. “Don’t you realise? I need you more than you could ever need me.”
Blake let out a snort. “Yeah, like some kind of famous actor needs some untalented artist wannabe hanging onto his arm.”
“Damn it, it’s more than just money and talent, the latter of which you have more of than you’ll ever know. When I’m with you, I can be me…Eric, the name I was born with and grew up with and for the first time, I feel like I’m being true to myself. Even back in high school I held everything back. You may have been the quiet one, but for all my popularity and boisterous talking, I was hiding away from the world way more than you. But, not anymore. You are the other part of me, Blake. You always have been. I was just too stupid to realise it until this week.”
“But, what if you find out that you hate living with me?” Blake asked, a flicker of hope coming to his eyes.
“Since we’ve spent the better part of the week together, I pretty much already know all your bad habits, and I find most of them kinda endearing. Even the way you mumble your story plots out in your sleep. As for me, I may be a bit of a slob, but I know I have to be better than a basement full of cats.”
“Don’t forget the futon filled with afterbirth!” Linda added.
Blake blushed slightly, but still smiled. “You had to tell her about that.”
“Did you seriously expect me to keep something that tragic a secret?” Deke countered playfully, before taking a deep breath. “So, how about it? Are we going to do this?”
Blake nibbled on his bottom lip. “Well, I do have to admit, you’re less of a bed hog than the cats. You don’t make me sneeze, either. On the other hand, you do leave behind just as many scratches on my back.”
“Just shut up and say yes already,” Deke pleaded, shifting his arms so they were wrapped around Blake’s waist.
Blake only had to tilt his head up the slightest bit so they could lock gazes again and the love that Deke saw in Blake’s eyes made him nearly shake with joy.
“Yes, Eric. I’ll move in with you. Just don’t expect me to do any of the cooking, because I suck at it so bad that not even the cats will eat it.”
Giving him a quick, hard kiss, Deke found himself grinning like some kind of idiot, but he couldn’t have cared less. It’s really happening! I can’t believe it. “Lucky for both of us, I’m a great cook.”
“How soon can we leave?” Blake asked, a wicked gleam coming over his face.
Reading his intent, Deke ran a hand over Blake’s ass. “For LA or the room?”
“Let’s go to the room first, then we can go to LA to stay.”
That sounded so good to Deke that he didn’t think any screenwriter, romance author or poet could have written a better happily-ever-after.
Chapter Seven
One year later
Deke grabbed two mugs of coffee and carried them up the stairs to the loft that had been converted into a studio for Blake. As he entered the doorway, he paused for a moment, drinking in the image of his lover.
The previous twelve months had been pure magic. Not only was Deke’s career taking off more than ever, but so was Blake’s. He was in such high demand that he actually had to turn down some offers. Plus, some of the gossip rags had even started putting Blake’s name first in the articles about them. Something that might have crushed Deke’s ego, had he not loved Blake more than any member of the public ever could.
Blake turned around. He wore only a pair of black sweats that hung low on his hips. His chest and feet were bare and they were splattered with various vibrant colours of paint. In front of him was his completed project, a six-foot high canvas picture of one of the cast members who’d had the misfortune of turning zombie. It was a piece that a talk-show had commissioned for their weekly recap of the show and they’d paid top dollar to make sure that it had been Blake and no one else who did it.
“It’s perfect.” Deke admired it as he set the cups down on a nearby table.
Blake just blushed like he always did when somebody complimented his work. “It’s okay. Maybe it will garner me enough money to send my mom a little extra this month for cat food.”
It was a common joke between them, one that had taken on an even funnier edge since Blake was making enough to keep almost every cat in his hometown permanently fat and pampered.
“So, what project is next on your list?” Deke asked.
“I’m going to paint you.”
After making that declaration, Blake tossed off his pants and underwear, showing off every inch of his body to Deke. Arousal spiked through Deke, making him nearly breathless, so it took him a few moments to reply, “It may have been a while since I watched Titanic, but aren’t I supposed to be the one getting naked.”
Blake’s lashes fanned his cheeks as he glanced down while stroking his own cock. “Not in this painting.”
Never taking his gaze off Blake, Deke quickly dives
ted himself of his clothes, tossing them to the side, with little care to where they landed. Once he was nude, he expected Blake to approach him, instead Blake turned and picked up two paint brushes, one coated in red paint, the other in black.
Some of it splattered the floor, but Blake had taken the care to lay down a tarp so the wood would be protected. He approached Deke and with the upmost care, began to paint, slow sensual strokes all over Deke’s body.
Deke moaned, fisting his hands to the side as he fought to stand still and let Blake take control. It was hard though, almost as hard as his cock. It kept getting harder, too with each caress and flick of the paint brush.
Blake took his time, working his way all the way up and down, first the front of Deke’s body, then the back. By the time Deke finally felt Blake’s lube coated fingers probing at his hole, Deke was whimpering to be fucked.
Murmuring words of love, Blake nudged Deke onto all fours and then thrust inside him, filling him up in the most perfect way.
Soft whispers were exchanged as they moved together, neither of them in a rush to end the moment. It was, in its own way, a work of art, then Blake leant down and whispered, “I love you, Eric.”
That’s all it took. Deke came, untouched, his semen splattering onto the tarp, mixing with the paint that was already there.
Blake let out a groan as he joined Deke in his pleasure. By that time, Deke’s legs were shaking so badly that he could no longer hold them up and they both collapsed into a heap on the hard floor.
Deke let out a grunt before Blake rolled off him. They were both covered in paint and cum and Deke couldn’t think of a time when either of them had looked better.
Blake let out a happy moan as he reached out and playfully tugged on Deke’s hair, no doubt leaving behind more paint streaks. “You saved me. You know that, don’t you?”
“No, babe, you saved me. Without you my life was just a blank canvas. Now it’s full of colour.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Now that was pretty sappy, even coming from an actor.”
Deke turned over until he had Blake pinned under him. “Just shut up and say that you’ll stay with me always.”
It was something that Deke had said every night, and every time Blake gave the same answer, “I will always stay with you, Eric. Until forever.”
Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
Heart Attack: Going With My Heart
Stephani Hecht
Excerpt
Chapter One
Dale stared at the slightly weathered, red screen door and took a deep breath.
Just knock. Come on, it’s not that hard. All you have to do is lift your damn fist and hit it against the wood a few times. You’ve faced enemy gunfire, missile attacks and bunking with guys who didn’t take a shower for two weeks, so this should be a piece of cake.
Try telling that to his hammering heart, trembling hands and sweaty brow, though. Because at that moment he couldn’t think of anything more terrifying than facing what may be waiting for him on the other side of that door.
He took another deep breath…and hesitated again.
Damn it, he hadn’t come all this way just to stare at a door.
Then he felt it—the prickling sensation that always comes when somebody is watching you. It was an instinct that all people were born with, but his four years in the military had taught him to hone that skill into a fine art. So he had no doubt—he was being stalked…but by whom?
He glanced at the curtains of the window that looked out over the porch. Maybe the home’s occupant already realised he was present and they were getting ready for battle. His unease grew when he noted the curtains remained motionless and tightly drawn together—the thick brown cloth obscuring any chance of him seeing inside, let alone allowing anybody to peek outside.
So that meant his stalker was somewhere else. He scanned up and down the street—the very one he’d grown up on. While each house brought back some memory from the past, he didn’t spot a single person. Nor did he see anybody looking out of the various windows. Just as he was about to give up and leave, a high pitched giggle from the other yard drew his attention.
Turning his head, he groaned as he found himself face-to-face with Ayla. When Dale had lived there four years ago, she’d been the neighbourhood brat and it looked as if little had changed. Sure, she now wore her brown hair in a fashionable pixie cut, had grown several inches taller and had given up her overalls for a pair of tight jeans, but the ever-present smirk remained on her lips.
“I knew you would be back,” she declared, crossing her arms over her thin chest.
Dale cocked a brow. “You did?”
“Of course. There’s no way you can resist Brady. You’ve always had the hots for him.”
It took Dale aback that even somebody as young as Ayla had figured out his true feelings for his best friend. Had he really been that obvious?
As if reading his mind, she rolled her big, brown eyes. “Please. You guys practically drooled over each other.”
“So, does that mean everybody knows?” Dale ventured.
He wondered if Brady had faced prejudice and hatred for their obvious attraction and a pang of guilt hit Dale over his friend having to face that alone.
“Yes, but most people don’t care. They like Brady too much to let something like that make them think less of him. In fact, he’s very popular…” She drew out the last word for emphasis, a malicious gleam in her gaze.
A bitter bite of jealousy stung Dale, even though he knew he had no right to feel it. “How popular?”
“What do you care? You took off on him.”
Since when had Ayla become Brody’s advocate? Next, she’d be coming up and kicking Dale in the shins for daring to hurt him.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Dale replied through clenched teeth.
Now it was she who cocked a brow and damned if she didn’t do a better job of it. “We all have choices in life, Dale. Some of us are just too much of a chicken to make them.”
His mouth parted in shock as he realised he’d been put in his place…and by a seventeen-year-old girl, no less. She tilted her head to the side, a grin forming on her face. “What makes you think he waited for you?”
Panicked, Dale looked at the drive, looking for any signs of an additional car that would indicate Brody was no longer living alone. All he saw was the same battered, red VW Bug that Brody had owned since high school and one set of tyre tracks leading up the snow-covered drive.
“Is he in a relationship?” Dale asked, hating that he had to get his information from the town snot.
“Why should I tell you anything? Knock on the door and find out for yourself. Unless you’re too afraid to face him. After all, you have been standing there a long time. I’m beginning to think that you’re just going to freak out and run the other way.”
“Now I’m beginning to remember why we always ditched you and whenever you tried to tag along after us,” Dale shot back.
She gave an unladylike snort. “Like I ever wanted to be seen with you two losers and before you ask, no—it’s not because you were gay.”
He blinked a few times, shocked at her bluntness. “Everybody knew about that?”
“Yeah, the way you two acted around each other, it was pretty obvious. I think the only ones who were clueless were your family.” She snagged a nearby lawn chair that for some odd reason was still out in February and settled into it, making herself comfortable. “They’re still in the dark, if you ask me.”
“Oh.” Dale thought that one over, surprised to find it didn’t bother him that the rest of their small Michigan town didn’t know his deep, dark secret. Then another thought occurred to him and he shot her an offended look. “So, why are we such losers?”
She huffed. “You two were the only guys who I know that look hot, yet have this insane addiction to Harry Potter.”
“What’s wrong with that? The books are good. The movies aren’t too bad, either. True, they d
on’t always stay true to the novels, but—”
She cut him off. “See! That’s exactly what I mean. Nobody other than Brody gives a damn about that kind of thing.”
“I’ll have you know that there were tons of people upset over that. You should have seen some of the posts on the message boards…” Dale trailed off, realising just how lame that did sound.
“As much as it upsets me, you two really are perfect for each other,” she sighed.
“Why does that upset you?”
“Because you broke his heart when you left to join the Air Force.”
Pain sliced through Brody, along with a bitter dose of regret. Damn it, he knew he’d done just that, but to hear some kid put voice to it somehow made it all the more real.
“I didn’t think I had a choice,” Dale rasped.
“And now?”
“I realise I made the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Then why in the hell are you telling me that?” She pointed at the door. “You need to be saying that to Brody.”
“Does your mother know about your potty mouth?”
“Who do you think I learned it from? Now, grow a set and knock already.”
Properly chastised, Dale took a deep breath and lifted his hand to rap on the door. While he waited, he nervously ran his fingers through his brown crew-cut, although there was no way it could possibly be messy. For good measure, he also smoothed out his white T-shirt and jeans, then straightened out his leather jacket.
After what seemed like forever, yet still too soon, the door opened and Dale found himself facing Brody for the first time in four years. Dale’s heart thudded as all the memories of their past came crashing upon him. Some were young and innocent, since they were from their childhood.
There were also more carnal and sensual moments they’d had together, highlighting the way too few times when they’d been intimate—at least, until Dale had gone and blown it, throwing away the only man he’d ever loved.
Very little about Brody had changed. He still wore his blond hair short but a bit shaggy so it looked stylishly messy. His blue eyes were as bright as ever, the long lashes that framed them looking sexy without coming off as feminine. Hell, Dale felt pretty certain Brody was even wearing the same University of Michigan tee he’d sported in high school.