That makes Blake stop in his tracks, pulling a disgusted face. “Not touching that one with a ten-foot pole,” he says.
“Go,”Ariana replies, her teasing tone fading, replaced with a new urgency in her voice that worries Blake, just a little. “He really believes you were playing him.”
A pang of fear Blake’sneverfelt before strikes his heart, and he takes off like a shot. He’s shoeless and bumbling as he walks, all of the drinks he’s had seemingly catching up to him in an instant. At some point, he steps on a shell or a rock or some shit, cursing and nearly going to his knees from the pain, but Blake keeps going.
It seems like forever until he gets to Pax’s smoking spot, but that’s mostly the inky dark and Blake’s own altered state distorting things. Even before he turns the corner, Blake can smell the sweet, pungent weed pervading the air, and it brings him a rush of relief. Not that Pax could actuallygoanywhere (though, Blake’s not convinced he wouldn’t steal a boat or a car if he really wanted to), but this shit means something to him. The Retreat, and more so, Pax himself. The idea that Pax has got him all wrong — it sits terribly in the pit of Blake’s stomach.
The vegetation-framed little space behind this wing of the house has no light at all, save for what spills over the edges from the path Blake steps off of on his way there. It’s not even enough to reveal Pax’s presence. If Blake couldn’t smell his smoke, he wouldn’t have any idea he was here. Distantly, Blake wonders if there are any of those night-vision cameras around, the kind their sleeping quarters have bolted in every corner.
Probably,he decides. Seems unlikely production would leave any part of the resort unmonitored, considering the stakes. Right now, someone is probably a wall away, watching this whole thing go down on monitors and cheering over the drama. Blake sighs.
“Pax,” he calls out, and as he blinks into the dark, his eyes begin to adjust. The outline of Pax’s body becomes visible, and he steps forward, towards Blake. The cherry on his joint comes into view, a burning ember in otherwise pitch-black.
“Hello, Blake,” Paxton says carefully.
Now that he’s here, Blake feels a little silly and at a loss for words. “I’m sorry if I—”
“I apologize for overreacting,” Paxton says, virtually at the same time. “If I was.”
“You were,” Blake assures him. Firm, but not rude or with any judgement. He takes a deep breath, dropping his hands to his sides. “Pax, I’m bad at this. I don’t know how to do anything right with you. Not only that, but I don’t know how to bejust friendswith people I might’ve slept with, otherwise. Dude, I’m trying. I really am. I wasn’t flirting with Leah. The only person I wanna do this dumb “deeper connections” thing with isyou,okay?”
It’s humiliating to spill all that out without even being able to gauge Pax’s reactions. It leaves Blake anxious and near-shaking, sure that Pax is going to tell him to get lost, that he’s blown his chance. But Pax just steps into his space, tucks his face into Blake’s neck and hugs him around his middle. Relieved, Blake sinks into him, hugging back and running his hands over Pax’s shoulders and hair and whatever else is in reach (like his ass —hey, Blake is only human).
“This is so foreign for both of us,” Paxton says quietly. “It’s only natural there would be… misunderstandings, miscommunications.” There’s a pause where they just hold each other, Blake relishing the way Pax’s hard body feels against his own and then, “Thank you. For coming to find me.”
Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the soft vulnerability in Paxton’s voice, but Blake suddenly knows what he wants to do, anddamn the consequences.Pax deserves something, deserves to see that Blake’s serious about him, that he’s willing to not only put him first but to sacrifice for him. Even if that sacrifice is something stupid, in the grand scheme of things. He shifts back enough to find Paxton’s hand, take the roach, and kick it.
This time, when Blake leans in to exhale into Paxton’s mouth, he follows it with a kiss. The smoke drifts and dissipates around them, and Blake kisses Pax like his life depends on it.
Ithardlyfeels like a sacrifice, that’s for sure.
The sparking pull that draws Blake to Pax in general explodes and amplifies times a thousand when they’re like this. Pax’s body, naked save for his swim trunks and a towel around his hips, is pressed up against Blake’s, their tongues sliding together in earnest. Pax doesn’t pull back for breath, just gasps into Blake’s mouth, maybe so that this all counts as one kiss, maybe because he can’t bring himself to stop.
Blake decides to believe it’s the latter — it definitely is for him.
All of that makes itso easyto take things to the next level, to follow through on his intended “gift” to Paxton. He gets his hands on Paxton’s shoulders, pushing him away and breaking their kiss with asmackand great reluctance on both of their parts. The little of Pax’s face he can see in the dark, he’s terribly beautiful and drunk on the moment, and Blake just wants to give him more.
Especially knowing Pax’s history — maybe that’s a shitty excuse or whatever, but Pax is on a whole different level than the other people here. Using sex to cope with addiction isn’t a negative in Blake’s mind, so long as it ain’t hurting anybody. It’s kinda shitty to take that away, to expect Pax to be able to operate like everyone else who’s just horny and stupid bad at acting like an adult.
Fortunately, this? Blake can fix. And it’ll be worth every damn penny.
Determined, he shoves Pax up against the side of the house, making him grunt. With a meaningful look that he hopes Pax can see through the shadows, Blake drops to his knees. Right away, Pax groans quietly, widening his stance and making himself comfortable against the wall. Both of his hands go right to Blake’s hair; he knows what the fuck is up, and he’s down with it.
They were standing in mulch, so now that’s what Blake has the pleasure of kneeling on. It’s uncomfortable; little pieces of bark poking into his skin, making the ground uneven beneath his bones, but Blake barely cares. He’ll probably regret it laterwhen the liquor and weed wear off, but for now, Blake just sees Pax. Justwantshim, and badly.
Once he has Pax’s green light, Blake works the towel off and his shorts down, letting them drop to his ankles. If Pax has reservations about doing this out here, where anyone could stumble upon them, he doesn’t say so. Blake knows it’s a moot point — since they’re almost certainly being filmed — but he cares exactly not at all. As far as he’s concerned, the only person in the entire world right now is Pax.
In front of him, Pax’s cock is steadily filling out, heavy and thick. It’s slightly wider than Blake’s, maybe an inch shorter — perfect-sized, exactly what Blake likes. “Pax,” Blake murmurs, running a hand up Pax’s thick, muscular thigh. Theonlything wrong with this scenario is that they’re not on a bed where Pax can squeeze his head in between those gorgeous things.Thatthought has Blake stiffening up in his own shorts, pressing the heel of his hand to his crotch in response.
“Want you,” he says into Paxton’s skin, pressing a soft kiss to the crease of his groin. Above him, Paxton exhales in a measured way, barely suppressing a twitch of his pelvis that suggests he wishes Blake would get a move on. Smiling to himself, Blake wraps his hand around Paxton’s cock and strokes loosely until he’s nearly fully erect.
Starting at the base, Blake teases with his tongue, licking a stripe up the length of him, and Pax’s reaction is beyond satisfying. Pax moans, his head thudding against the stucco, his hips doing their best not to rock. Blake removes his hand, uses it to press Paxton back against the wall by his chiseled hipbones before tonguing around the head of his cock and then swallowing him all the way down.
As Blake swirls his tongue and sucks, humming and taking Pax as deeply down his throat as he’s able, Pax seems to waver between trying to muffle his sounds and wanting to be as loud as he can be. Blake would laugh if it were possible — if they happened to be getting away with this before, he’s sure they aren’t now.
“Blake,Blake,”Paxton murmurs, and that encouragement is all Blake needs to go harder. Once he’s adjusted to the sensation of having his throat fucked, he sets Pax’s hips free, lets him thrust all he wants. He forces his jaw to go slack, swallows around the intrusion, doesn’t forget to use his tongue in the meantime.
This ain’t Blake’s first rodeo —thisis something he knows that he’s good at, knows he can make goodforPax. It matters to him in a way it never has before that itisgood for Pax.
