Chapter Fifteen Reaction Shot

Chapter fifteen

Reaction Shot

Eddie berated himself for having been so forward.

But how could he have stopped himself? The past few days, he'd been petulant. Sulking. How was that supposed to convince Lee to take a chance? Because he knew something was there between them. Felt it. Lee might not understand it yet. Might not believe in it. And Eddie acting scorned only proved he was immature. He'd spent the days cosying up to Kyle the cameraman in order to spark some jealousy in Lee. To show him he felt something, too. It hadn't worked. And that morning, as he'd crept past Lee to the kitchen, he'd vowed to be more mature. Lee was struggling. Eddie could wait.

Then Lee had come in with a pair of boxers on and all that fell to the wayside. Because Eddie wasn't mature. He was young. Idealistic. Impulsive. But Lee was older. Wiser. Weathered and cautious.

Those didn't mix .

Eddie had to realise that.

"Right, guys, closed set today. Only those who need to be here should be here." Mitch barked to the crew standing around the bedroom of the house they'd rented and made up to be Maya's home. They were at the part of the film where she took her ranch boy home and, well, made love to him.

Lucky her.

Eddie had to be stark bollock naked for this scene except for a cock sock, and Tiffany, although mostly hidden with a sheet or by Eddie himself, had to be stripped to flesh coloured underwear. It was a closed set, with only Mitch, Kyle and their intimacy co-ordinator allowed entrance. No Lee. Thank God. Because, as the film was being made for the female gaze, it was he, Eddie, on show. The one who'd be fawned over, and therefore a relief to not have the man he had a hard on for there watching him being fluffed up. It was hard enough to act an intimate scene with clear, precise markers on where he should and could put his hands without wondering whether Lee was watching him. And if he was, was he enjoying it? Eddie might not have performed if he'd been there.

Or, well, maybe performed a little too well.

After several conversations with Grace, the intimacy co-ordinator, about what was going to happen, what props would ensure no actual flesh would touch actual flesh, which modesty garments were going to be used including a full pubic wig on him, they were ready to shoot the first take. Eddie shed his clothes to his boxers, ready to take Tiffany in his arms and lower her to the bed for take one and he peered over his shoulder. Kyle, poking out from around his camera lens, raked his gaze up, then down, and Eddie shuddered under the scrutiny. It was nice to be desired, especially when he was about to shoot the most intimate scene he'd ever done, but this was work . And that leer was inappropriate. Having thought he was okay with Kyle's advances, being exposed in this way with him recording it had his nerves on over drive. But he had to shut it off to get the job done. Used to delving into the space in his head where he hid and things happened around him out of his control, he went there.

He wasn't Eddie anymore.

He was Joel .

And Joel hadn't had a moment with Lee. Wasn't wary of the man behind the camera ogling him. And wasn't gay. Joel was very much straight and having this moment with Maya.

Tiffany emerged from around a screen, her sundress adjusted to make it easier for Eddie to rip it off when the time came. Eddie inhaled a vexed breath. He'd done on screen kissing before. He'd had one scene in a play where he'd stripped to his underwear. Even had a bedroom scene on the soap he'd been on when his character had lost his virginity. But they were nothing like this, and it had Eddie fearful he would mess it up like he had The Kiss.

Tiffany stood in front of him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

It didn't matter whether they were friends off set, and Eddie would put their relationship in the ‘not so much' category, this was still an intimate scene. Something they had to share and ensure both were on the same page and both were comfortable enough with each other to make it happen. They were both vulnerable here regardless of star status, gender or experience.

Tiffany winked. Eddie winked back .

And off it went.

"We're rolling. Go when you're ready." Mitch adjusted his headset, keeping his voice light enough not to ruin the ambiance. "First take we'll see what works."

The next few hours were the hardest Eddie had ever worked.

For a scene that would make less than a minute on screen, it took all day to shoot. Adjusting and readjusting angles, placing hands, covering parts, kissing, lots and lots of kissing, and the day drew to a close around six p.m. with Joel and Maya having consummated their love and Eddie's lips red raw. He stepped back into his underwear as Tiffany wrapped herself in a gown while the set opened for everyone to bundle back in and put the scene to bed.

Excuse the pun.

"Here." Kyle handed him his T-shirt over the commotion behind the camera with production staff clearing up the props and equipment.

"Thanks." Eddie put his head through the top and ruffled his hair out of Joel's style. Kyle stood there watching him. Eddie gazed over his head as Lee shunted into the room and their gazes met. Eddie ripped his away first to focus on the one who had shown him an ounce of interest.

"Good work today," Kyle said as Eddie jumped into his jeans. "I've been on sets where the intimacy scenes go on for days."

"Because they have to, or you want them to?"

Kyle chuckled. "Bit of both. So, now that's out of the way. How about that drink tonight?"

Eddie zipped up his jeans, flicking his gaze over to Lee standing at the back, arms folded.

"Yeah," Eddie said. "Drink'll be good."

* * * *

Eddie sneaked out while Lee was in the shower.

He'd not bothered eating. For…reasons. But he'd watched Lee gorge on a grilled cheese sandwich and fries, down a beer, then get in the shower, all tense and annoyed. Eddie didn't have the energy to figure out what he'd done this time. He'd backed off like Lee had asked him to. He hadn't pressed for him to admit there was something between them. Or to do anything about it. If Lee was struggling with coming to terms with feeling something for a man, or for him in particular, Eddie had to let him deal with it on his own.

He had a feeling he'd be waiting forever.

To pass that infinite amount of time, he dressed in his ripped jeans, a loose tee, his leather jacket and left.

Without telling Lee where he was going.

By sundown he was in Blue Vibe, a gay bar off the main strip in a hidden corner of Las Vegas that might as well be the desert, with Kyle shouting over the packed out bar to order a drink for him from the extensive cocktail menu.

Guilt ate him.

It was busy. A Friday night in Las Vegas was bound to be, and Eddie drank in the atmosphere on the heaving dance floor, plush blue and vibrant purple booths surrounding it where hordes of people consumed lurid cocktails, desperate to close off the niggle gnawing at him and telling him he was stupid. He wasn't much of a club goer. Crowds unnerved him. He put it down to having missed out on that rite of passage in his early youth because he'd been mourning his mother's death and keeping his sister and dad afloat, unable to indulge in something as hedonistic as a gay bar. But he planned to drown in whatever concoction Kyle bought him and dance the woes away. Maybe even let Kyle kiss them away. Because he wasn't struggling with his desires. He was very much blatant with what he wanted.

Who he wanted.

Him .

Kyle handed him a frothy blue drink, which he had to suck from the curly straw or he'd choke on the garish fruit and crushed ice. A far cry from what he'd been drinking with Lee of an evening, and it gripped his throat and shrouded him with a stark realisation that tore at his heart. Lee wasn't gay. He didn't drink in flamboyant clubs like this one. He didn't sip on gaudy cocktails while grinding to the tunes of Lady Gaga.

Lee didn't kiss men.

Why was Eddie making him?

"What's up with you and that bodyguard of yours?" Kyle leaned into his ear to be heard over the thud of the bass.

Kyle was in tight red trousers framing an arse reaping the benefits of squats and lunges, with a white tank top showing off arms developed from daily biceps curls. He wasn't Lee bulky, more aesthetically made. Cute rather than rugged. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He was the right type of good looking for everyone in here to notice him. Older, too. Not Lee older. Thirties. A freelance cameraman who'd worked on a ton of films, TV shows and a couple of documentaries. Straight out of LA Film School, onto the books of Hollywood, Kyle was a catch. Eddie should be ecstatic. Not only was the man easy on the eye and had his eyes on Eddie, but he was also in the biz. Eddie could benefit from a little Californication.

But he wasn't Lee .

No one was.

And Lee wasn't gay. Or bi. Or interested in him.

"Nothing," Eddie said into his drink, then slurped through the straw and winced. It was sweet and strong and clogged with E-numbers that would wreak havoc with his brain chemistry. When he'd been a kid, his mum had forbidden him to eat the blue bubble-gum ice pops all the other kids got from the ice-cream van that parked by their street in the summer as they had him bouncing off the walls until the early hours of the morning.

Bouncing off the walls sounded pretty damn good right then.

He drank more.

"You sure?" Kyle cocked his head. "I mean, I can back off if you two are—"

"No." Eddie slurped up the rest of the cocktail to screw with his mind. "No, no, we're not anything. Trust me."

Kyle smiled. "Good." He took Eddie's glass, placed it on the bar, downed his own, then took Eddie's hand.

Eddie went with him. Numb and broken enough to allow someone else to take charge, he shut off his rational thinking and delved into the risk taker part of his brain activity. The part that had allowed him to jump headfirst into acting. To auditioning. To leaving behind the grief by dousing it with a mission. But Kyle didn't lead him to the dancefloor, he took him to the edge, the wings, and snaked him through the crowds, searching for a quieter spot.

A back room?

Eddie's pulse raced. Not for what he thought might lie beyond the horde, but because of his own foolishness. He didn't know Kyle. Knew nothing about him other than what would be on a freelancer's resume. His online profile. Was he about to walk into a back room with a man in the industry who could use what happened in there for monetary gain? Career gain. For blackmail . He'd told himself never to be in this position. To come out on his own terms. To do what it took to get to the top, then have the big reveal. What if this moment, right then, would take all that from him?

Why hadn't he told Lee where he was?

Would his feelings for Lee cause his career downfall, not because of him, but because he'd wanted to forget him?

Eddie loosened his hand within Kyle's, hoping to slow the inevitable, then his fingers slipped from his completely. Eddie stood frozen as he watched the throng swallow Kyle up and the last he saw was him turning, lifting above the crowd, searching for him.

Because after that, things went to shit.

Bashed from the side, Eddie toppled, careening forward as a cloth descended over his head. Dazed and confused, he clawed at the fabric with frantic desperation, but huge, fuck off hands grabbed his arms, wrenched them behind his back, then shunted him forward. Unable to see or fight his way out of the stronghold, his pulse thundered in his ears when an almighty crash of fire escape doors opened, then slammed against a wall, then banged shut behind, swapping the cloying scent of the club for fresh air masked by the hood covering his face.

He'd been forced out of the club. The back of the club.

Surely people had seen? He'd been in a public place. Surrounded by people.

But drunk people. Dancing people. People consumed with their own misdeeds. None would care about him, even if they had seen what had happened .

Panic stricken, Eddie struggled against his attacker, but the man—he assumed it was a man by the size of his hands—dug a knee into his back. It wasn't a kick. A shove. More to pin him against the wall to bind his wrists, the unforgiving grip of a zip tie cutting into his skin.

"Help!" Eddie's hysterical cries were muffled by the headcloth, and the music and chatter, the dancing and the merriment. Still, he tried. "Get the fuck off me! Help !"

One of those big, fuck off hands clamped around his mouth, rendering him unable to yell. But that wasn't the only thing preventing his ability to cry out. It was the familiar scent of hotel hand wash, and the deep, penetrating, " Shhh ," snarling into his ear. Almost seductive.

Eddie found himself drained of any fight.

The man dragged him away from the wall, forcing him to walk forwards. Then a clang, bang of what Eddie assumed was a car door opening. He thrust back, hoping to catch the man off guard. He couldn't get in that car. He'd never be found again. But the solid bulk behind him was no match. And the hand that had been around his mouth moved to splay over his head, dipping him down and shunting him into the back of a car.

Eddie collapsed onto leather seats.

Nice, spacious leather seats.

"Move." The low growl of annoyance had Eddie grappling to the other side.

The door slammed shut, and Eddie could sense someone sitting next to him. How many of them were there? He couldn't hear anyone else. No other breaths apart from the one next to him. The cloth ripped from off his head and Eddie blinked, inhaled, and took a look at his assailant.

" Lee !" Eddie lurched out of his seat, knees hitting the back of the empty driver's chair. "What the actual fucking fuck ?!"

Lee raised a gun to Eddie's temple. Eddie clamped his mouth shut, staring at him as his heart pounded. No. No, he wasn't—

Lee pulled the trigger, water spurting into Eddie's face from the kid's play pistol.

" Boom ." Lee chucked the water pistol into the footwell. "Eddie's toast." He then fell back, scrubbing a hand down his face, breaths hard and fast as if coming down from his mission. "Jesus, fuck , Eddie. What were you thinking ?"

Eddie blew away the droplets seeping into his mouth. "Me?" He wriggled to the edge of his seat, plastic zip tie cutting into his wrists. "Me? You fucking kidnapped me! In a club! How the fuck did you do that?"

"Skill."

" Why would you do that?"

"For you to understand the severity of what you just did and how fucking easy it is to grab you in a crowded place and have you halfway to the Grand Canyon before your oblivious fucking twat of a date even noticed."

"Fuck's sake!" Eddie glared out of the window. They were at the back of the club, Jeep hidden by industrial bins. He let his heart thrash for a moment, let his nerves temper, before seething back at Lee. "You couldn't walk in and tell me? Ask me politely to come with you, no?"

"What would that achieve? You'd probably have told me to fuck off so you can go get laid."

"What's pissed you off more? That I went out without telling you or that I was going to get laid?"

"That you put yourself in danger for a cheap fuck."

Eddie swallowed. "How'd you know it would be cheap? "

"I can tell," Lee spat, then shifted to face him. "If I can find you, Eddie, anyone can."

"How did you?"

"I said, skills ." Lee raked a hand through his hair. "Why the fuck would you do this?"

" Why ?" Eddie glared at him, challenging. "You wanna know why?"

"Yes!"

"Because of you, Lee! Because. Of. You ." Eddie bashed his skull against the headrest, heart pounding. "You said this must be easy for me, it's anything but. I'm trying to back off. I'm desperately trying not to want you. But it's fucking hard when I've wanted you for as long as I can fucking remember. I could control it back home by fucking other people and imagining it was you. But now you are with me. Twenty-four fucking seven. Stomping around the place, looking like… you , yet somehow it's my fault? I've had a hard on for you since I was fifteen . I'm backed up to my eyeballs thinking about you, but now you're here, with me, strutting around the fucking apartment half fucking naked, and I'm meant to deal with that?"

"Ed—"

"And you fucking kissed me back ," Eddie spat, lurching forward in his seat as much as he could with his hands tied behind his back. "You can deny it. You can tell yourself you didn't. But you fucking did . And you didn't just kiss me, Lee. You fucking ate me as if I'm a rare bloody steak and you've been eating kale all your fucking life. And again, it's my fucking fault? I heard you! You don't want me. I got it. I don't believe you, because if you getting a fucking raging boner when I have my hands on you is you not turned on, then I'd like to see how big it gets when you are! But fuck it. I'm still a red-blooded male who spent an entire twelve hours pretending to get laid. I thought the best thing I could do for both of us is to go out and relieve myself of all this fucking…pent up…fucking…backed up fucking thing I have for you, but then you storm in and fucking cockblock me. Does that answer your fucking question , detective? "

Eddie heaved and fell back in the seat, chest rising and falling with his heady breaths. He closed his eyes, blocking out how he'd said all that out loud.

"And you're a prick," he finished with to hammer it home and was about to add more but couldn't because Lee was on him.

Kissing him.

Eddie had to open his eyes to check.

Yep. Lee was kissing him. Not just kissing. Consuming him. With his hand splayed around Eddie's neck, Lee forced him closer and devoured him. Fuck . Fucking fuck. Eddie couldn't quite believe it but nor did he want to miss this. So he kissed Lee back, grappling to get closer, but with his hands tied behind his back, he could do nothing but allow Lee to control it. And control he did. Spearing his tongue into Eddie's mouth as though starved and squashing his bulk down on Eddie, fingers indenting his skin to cause bruises, tongues entwining as though two snakes in battle. God, it was good. Damn good. All the blood rushed to Eddie's cock, and it engorged in his jeans, demanding a piece of the action. If he'd had his hands free, he might have wrenched Lee closer to rut against him. Or at least undo his jeans and ease the pressure on his aching cock.

Lee must have read his mind, because he removed his hand from his neck to fiddle with Eddie's belt.

Fuck .

He wasn't .

Was he?

Oh, fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Yes!

Eddie whimpered into Lee's mouth as, with one swift flick and slide, Lee had Eddie's belt undone and pop, pop, pop, flies ripped apart, giving room to his hardening dick.

"You want me to?" Lee asked, voice hoarse and gawking down at Eddie's crotch.

Eddie would have thought that was obvious. But Lee was old school. Consent was important. Especially considering he had Eddie tied up right then.

"Mm hmm." Eddie chased Lee's lips, kissing him to confirm. "Yes. Fuck yes. Oh fucking god yes. Yes, fucking yes . Put your fucking hands on me. Now ."

"One yes would suffice."

"Didn't want anything lost in transla—"

Lee swiped his tongue into his mouth, sloppy and thick, and entwining around Eddie's. Then he pulled away and, forehead to Eddie's, gazed down at his erection poking at his boxers, noticeable wet patch seeping through the cotton.

Lee hummed.

Fucking hummed .

Deep, wanton and vibrating.

Eddie was going to come on that sound alone.

But Lee took pity on him and dived his hand inside his waistband and wrapped his fingers around his needy dick and stroked. Tentatively. Agonisingly. Deliciously teasing him with deliberate restraint.

Eddie lolled his head back. God, that felt good. So damn good . Eddie's chest bubbled. Skin tingled. And he flushed with heat. It was torturous being done this slowly. This gradually. And he thrust his hips into Lee's fist, hungry for more.

"Don't be shy now, Ed," Lee said, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. "Tell me what you want."

"Fuck," Eddie breathed out. "Fucking fuck ." That was what he wanted Lee to do. Fuck him. But the cursing was more a reaction to what was happening. And how Lee was asking him for direction. How he was vocal about it. Eddie panted, "Tighter…Faster." Then gasped as Lee sped up in demand, fisting his cock, flesh slapping, and Eddie grunted, windows steaming up as Lee shifted in the seat to get closer.

"Like that?" he purred into his ear.

"Fuck, yeah." God , yeah.. Lee knew what he was doing. But Eddie couldn't help but rise to Lee's wickedness and so, with each slap of his dick in Lee's palm, he groaned out an impish, "Can…you…do it… harder ?" He caught Lee's eye, hoping he'd get the joke but praying he'd cooperate.

Lee kissed the smirk off his face, but did as Eddie commanded and sped up, grip tightening, jerking him with feverish intent. "Like that?"

"Yeah. God . Yeah." Eddie thrust his hips, losing his cock to Lee's tunnelled fist, and he could feel every spasm of pleasure taking hold. He lost control, wanting more, needing more, no rhythm, fiercely jerking into Lee's hand.

"Come on, Ed," Lee sang around his teasing taunt, as if he found Eddie's predicament amusing .

God, that went right to Eddie's cock.

Panting, sweating, gasping, Eddie was ready to explode and when Lee wiped his thumb across his cockhead, then removed his hand to lick it— lick it —while holding Eddie's gaze, Eddie could have died. And he'd die fucking deliriously happy. But Lee didn't let him. He went straight back to tossing him off with renewed vehemence.

Eddie groaned. "Uh, shit. Oh, fuck ." He clenched, then wave after wave, years and years of repressed lust spilled out of him, and he trembled, juddered, garbled incoherently while he drained himself all over Lee's hand and T-shirt. "Fuck, oh fuck."

Lee slowed his movements to a gentle caress, squeezing every drop from him, then released his hand and rubbed the come between his fingers to suck them off in his mouth.

Suck. Them.

In his mouth.

Eddie was too far up in his own head to even comment. He needed his breath back because Lee had stolen it with his filthy, depraved sex act. Lee slumped over to the other seat, swiping his hands down his trousers, he was as breathless as Eddie. He peeked at him. Eddie stared back. Then he drifted his gaze down to the tent forming in Lee's joggers.

Without words, Lee lifted his waistband, dragged his joggers down under his arse, wriggling to release his erection into the air. Eddie widened his eyes, gazing at the beauty that was Lee's thick, hard cock. Exposed and freed. Fierce and unrelenting. Bopping up against his taut abs as Lee pulled up his T-shirt, joggers down around his knees, settling back to stroke himself.

Eddie gaped in awe as Lee started slowly, then gradually worked up to a rhythm. Then when he moaned, not taking his eyes from Eddie, stroking himself, Eddie couldn't take being a bystander any longer. No fucking way. He'd waited too long for this, and he wriggled forward to the edge of his seat, twisting to show his strapped hands to Lee. "Untie me. "

"No." Lee was too relaxed. Too at ease with all this. Caressing his cock with leisurely strokes while Eddie could do nothing but watch.

Well, he'd show him.

Eddie shunted forward and Lee threw his arm out, splaying a hand over the back of Eddie's head as he'd done once before in this car, and brutally shoved his face into his lap.

"That harder for you?"

Eddie stumbled, inhaling the scent of musk and Lee, then manoeuvred into the footwell between his legs. "You're going to pay for that," he said, then nuzzled up to gorge on Lee's balls while Lee continued his lethargic wank.

Then Lee held the base of his cock, pointing the tip toward him and, Jesus fucking Christ , it glistened at the head, purple and desperate, leaking and longing.

"You're tied up, Eddie. Gonna have to say you want this."

"I fucking want that. In my fucking mouth." Eddie opened his mouth, flicking out his tongue, and Lee hummed, deep and vibrating, as he fed him his rock-solid cock. Much like the man, Lee wasn't small and Eddie had to rise on his knees, open his throat and gorge it down to the root.

" Fuuuuck ," Lee's rasping groan had Eddie gluttonous. And when he raked his hands through Eddie's hair, gripping the strands to control his sucks, Eddie hardened again.

He'd played out this moment in his head so many times it was painful. He'd sucked others off with his eyes closed, imagining it was Lee. Had wondered for years what Lee would taste like, what his dick would feel like in his mouth and if he ever got the chance, would Lee like what he did to him?

Yeah. He liked it.

He liked it a fucking lot.

" Eddie ." And he was moaning his name!

Lee dragged Eddie's head back to watch his cock slide in and out of his mouth and his hips left the seat, thrusting up for Eddie to take him deeper.

Eddie was drunk on a high so wild, no amount of pills would sort out his fucked head after this.

"Fuck, Eddie ."

Lee rasping his name was going to kill him.

Eddie sped up, sucking with delirium, mouth filled with saliva, throat wide and tongue lapping up every spill. Lee grunted. Panted. Chest heaving and Eddie knew the signs and was desperate for it. Lee came with a growl and Eddie lapped up every drop, sucking and swallowing until there was nothing left and Lee's dick softened in his mouth. Lee dragged him off, quaking in the aftermath.

Car windows misted, air stagnant with the scent of sex, Eddie huddled in the footwell, jeans open, semi-hard dick poking out, sordid and debauched, hands still clasped behind his back, trying very hard not to ask Lee to hold him.

Lee dropped back in the seat, staring at the roof, chest rising and deflating. After a while, he tucked himself back in his joggers, dug something out of his pocket, leant down to Eddie, and cut the zip tie with a Swiss army knife. He then fell back in the seat, and Eddie squirmed his arms free to clamber over to the other side. But Lee balled his fist into his top and dragged him onto his lap. He kissed him. With tongue. Hand stroking his neck. It was almost like being held. Eddie would take it .

Nose to nose, deep and growling, Lee said, "You're trouble."

"You're the one who tied me up."

Lee kissed him again, this time gentler, and Eddie melted into him. He'd got what he'd been dreaming about, but his greedy heart wanted more. Wanted Lee to like him. Not just want him. But like him. Be with him.

He was asking for the impossible.

Lee let him go, allowing Eddie to fall back to the other side of the car, tangled and dizzy and reeling in things he shouldn't ask for.

They stayed that way for a while. Silent. Eddie daren't look at him. Daren't ask. Daren't even acknowledge it. All he could do was prepare for the fallout. He'd wanted this. He'd got it. It was his fault if the crash and burn annihilated him.

"Get in the front," Lee said, shouldering open the back door and getting out.

Eddie scrambled out too, and they had to awkwardly pass each other at the bonnet to swap sides and get back in, Eddie in the passenger seat, Lee in the driver's side. Eddie's phone buzzed. He fished it out to dozens of missed calls and texts clogging up his screen.

"Shit." Eddie rubbed his forehead, biting his lip. "Kyle's looking for me." He held up the phone to Lee.

"He lost you."

"Because you kidnapped me."

"Because he wasn't paying attention."

"I was behind him."

"If you'd stayed with me, I wouldn't have let go of your hand."

Eddie swallowed the thumping heart that had leapt into his throat. How Lee could sound threatening, aggravated, and hot all at the same time should be a lesson they taught in drama school.

Lee started the engine.

Eddie typed out a reply. Sorry. Wasn't feeling well. Too much blue stuff. Had to leave. He then added the sick emoji for good measure, in case of any lost-in-translation. He pocketed the phone. Lee still hadn't driven off. He was staring out of the window at the darkness, headlights lighting up the dumpsters and barren wasteland with a faraway look in his eyes.

Eddie tilted his neck. "You all right?" He held his breath in wait. Here's where Lee would tell him it was a mistake again. Eddie expected it. With the taste of Lee's spunk still in his mouth, he might even handle it.

He was kidding himself.

Lee motioned to the overfilled dumpsters. "Not exactly the best place for…"

"Your gay crisis?"

Lee looked at him. "My what?"

"First gay experience."

Lee snorted, then drifted the car off the rocky bank to snake down the alleyway. Then two, maybe three beats went by before he said, "You're not my first, Eddie."

Eddie's eyebrows shot up.

What?

What the actual…?

He wasn't sure what had shocked him more that night. His kidnapping. Lee tossing him off. Having Lee's cock in his mouth.

Or how he wasn't the first man to have had it there.