Cross felt a little lurch inside, but could say, “Yes, for sure. Away from, um, intimate places, anyhow. Foot rubs, oh my god yes. Massages for sure. I once thought about hiring a private masseur to follow me around the country and rub my back every day.”Because you were touch-starved after years of only getting hugged by Marie every six months.It was stupid to want desperately to be touched, and yet dodge the hands of guys he tried dating as they dove for his dick. At least with Rusty, he could honestly say, “I think about your hands.”
Rusty held up one big paw. “All yours, once we’re less than two thousand miles apart. Maybe you’re more like most women. Kris once told me guys have sex to feel good when they don’t, and women have sex to celebrate when they do.”
“Something like that.”
“Was that sexist, to say that?” Rusty frowned.
“Honestly, ask Kris.” Cross wanted the attention off himself. “Hey, if you’re the kind of guy who has sex to feel better, want me to watch while you jerk off again? Like last time?”
“Not if you won’t enjoy it.”
“Who says I won’t enjoy it? I like bossing you around and I really like seeing you all hot and bothered.” The idea he could make Rusty happy right now was a lifeline. “Hell, yes.”
“Really?” Rusty’s expression brightened. “You want to do that? Tell me what to do?” He picked up his phone. “Let’s take this to my bedroom, though. Someone might come in.”
“Sure. Show me your room.” Cross was glad of anything to keep his mind off hockey right now. “Did you hang up posters of half-naked guys?”
“How old do you think I am?” Rusty’s feet thudded on the stairs as Cross got a jerky view. “Fourteen?” He moved through a doorway and a thump heralded a door closing. “So, this is my room.” He provided a spinning panorama, then set the phone on something and stepped back. “Much like the one you stayed in when you were here so maybe we can skip the tour and get to the sex?”
“Sure. Take that sweater off.” Rusty was wearing a Rafters jersey and Cross wasn’t sad to see him whip it off and toss it out of the frame.We lost. Shit.He shoved the thought aside.
I get to make Rusty feel better.That was heady power in an interesting way, much better than… other stuff. “Undo your jeans. Just the button.”
As he followed orders, Cross noted Rusty was still catching up with the weight he’d lost in the last month of the season. His wide chest and long arms were filling out and looking more mature, but his stomach was hollow and Cross could still see the shadowed lines of his lower ribs. Cross suppressed the urge to tell him to take better care of himself.He has time to eat and rebuild now.A faint dusting of blond hair did nothing to hide tight pink nipples and thickened to a denser trail from Rusty’s belly button down to that open button. Already his dick tented the denim below.
Rusty stuck his thumbs in his gaping waistband and grinned. That look eased some of the pain in Cross’s chest.I made him smile.
“Now the zipper. In fact, take them off.”
Rusty complied. Cross liked that it was an ungainly process, making Rusty swear as he tugged downward. “These didn’t used to be so tight.”
“Hockey thighs. I like them tight.” Cross added, “Lose the socks too.”
Rusty flung clothes left and right, then straightened, wearing only his straining boxer-briefs, and spread his hands wide. “So this is me.”
“Hey, you. Gonna give me a show?”
“Would you like that?” A hint of uncertainty crossed Rusty’s face.
“I would,” Cross assured him. “How do you touch yourself when you’re alone? Show me.”
“Like, when I’m just trying to get off quick, or when I go slow?”
Cross had never jerked off slowly. Masturbation was simply a means to a bit of relief. He wondered what Rusty thought about when he did. “Go slow. Tell me what you’re picturing, what you’re doing. How do you start?”
“I, um, sometimes touch my, uh, chest.” Rusty rubbed his palms over his pecs, using his thumbs to pinch his nipples. “I’m sensitive there. Did you decide if you are?”
“Not really.” Cross hadn’t felt the urge to try it out. “Rub your dick.”
“Through my shorts?” Rusty palmed himself and grunted. “It won’t take much when you let me.”
“Let you what? No, keep rubbing.”
“Let me get it out. I’m short of clean underwear. Fuck.” Rusty threw his head back, eyes half closed as he stroked himself. Thehead of his dick peeked above his waistband and he ran a thumb over it, then lowered his gaze to stare at Cross as he licked the slick off his finger.
Despite the distance, and the pain Cross felt inside and out, that sultry look and languid tongue spread a surprising warmth in Cross’s body. “Yeah, more like that. Take off your shorts, lick your hand, and go for it.”
“Fuck, yes.” Rusty scrambled to obey, giving Cross glimpses of his muscled thighs and rookie hockey ass as he dragged the underwear off. “Just jerk off?”
