Short Stay Page 7

  Baz shut his eyes and surrendered to it.

  They kissed for only a few moments before Elijah pulled back to peel off his shirt. He’d changed earlier, but he was ripe from travel and dancing, and the sharp, briny scent of him cut through the lingering haze of Baz’s pain and plumped his cock. He motioned for Elijah to straddle him, unbuttoning Elijah’s jeans and running his trembling hands down his lover’s hips in a staccato slide. Elijah thrust his pelvis forward, aiming the treasure bulging in his briefs closer to Baz’s face.

  Baz ignored that invitation and tortured his fiancé, lapping at his nipples and mapping his torso, back, and globes of his ass with his hands. God, but Baz loved Elijah’s body. Elijah was self-conscious of it sometimes, saying he was too skinny, too gawky. Awkward. Baz loved the awkward, though of course he couldn’t say this. He loved how Elijah didn’t look like he’d been cut out of a porn shoot. He was real. Slight and vulnerable, housing a core of steel.

  Baz pushed Elijah into a crouch so he could mouth at the nest of hair without fucking his shoulder. “You were hot, dancing with Randy and Sam.” He pulled Elijah’s pants lower, freeing his cock. He licked the tip, smiling at the way Elijah whimpered. “Let’s go dancing, baby. Dance your cock right into my mouth.”

  Elijah gasped as Baz sucked him deep, thrusting his hips mindlessly to a silent beat. He clutched at Baz’s hair, tugging enough to sting. His belly banged into Baz’s glasses. Baz let this go on for a few minutes, then squeezed Elijah’s hips and pulled him back, coming off Elijah’s cock with a sharp pop.

  “Go turn out the lights, and get naked.”

  Elijah stumbled drunkenly across the suite, throwing switches, struggling out of his jeans, briefs, and socks. He approached Baz, gaze unfocused, body moving automatically to straddle his face, but Baz pointed to the round ottoman in the middle of the seating area. He also handed Elijah a throw pillow. “Lay down, honey, and show me your ass.”

  Shaking, Elijah complied. He opened his legs wide, pink hole flexing under Baz’s gaze, breath escaping in irregular, sharp bursts.

  Baz took off his glasses, leaned forward, and brushed a kiss on either side of the musky opening. “I’m sorry I was a dick earlier. I didn’t mean to shut you out.” He flicked his tongue over the puckered star, sending a soft sigh out of Elijah’s mouth. “Let me lick you how much I’m sorry.”

  He was deliberately, agonizingly slow. He traced around and around the pucker, breathed on it once, then repeated the motion. He pressed the flat of his tongue against Elijah’s opening, moaning as he massaged. He sucked the sides of Elijah’s ass, right next to his entrance. Elijah cried out and flexed the aching muscle.

  Baz nudged the tip of his tongue at the desperate hole, and as Elijah gasped and contracted, Baz pushed at the resistance…and slipped inside.

  He positioned himself on the floor in a way that wouldn’t aggravate anything, shut his eyes, and went to town. A lazy, gentle fucking with his tongue. He used his thumbs to open Elijah wider—gently, because it was a gentle night. He pulled Elijah’s cock down, aiming it toward his chest, and stroked it idly, using his spit for friction.

  Elijah did his best to push his hole into Baz’s face. “Please—fuck me. Please fuck me.”

  “I have to tell you I’m sorry for a little longer.” Baz licked lazily along Elijah’s taint. “I was so bad. I need to apologize more.”

  “You’re an ass.” Elijah gasped and gripped the ottoman with white knuckles. “I want your dick as an apology.”

  Baz clucked. “How about fingers?” He eased his index finger into the breach. “How about I press you naked to the window, finger you until you cry, and whisper to you what a bad boy you are?”

  Elijah went without complaint. He still begged to be fucked, but he let Baz arrange him, one foot on a stool, his face and hands mashed to the glass. Baz left him there, exposed, while he found lube. He slid two fingers into Elijah, teasing him open as he made love to his ear.

  “Maybe someone can see you. Maybe someone across the street has a telescope and they’re watching me finger-fuck you. They’re thinking, what a slut up there. What a pretty slut. I hope that guy fingers him for an hour.” Baz sucked on the pulse under Elijah’s ear.

  They’d played this game before, but Elijah had never quavered quite so much, lust overcoming his shame. He bore down on Baz’s fingers, working himself until Baz pushed harder, faster. As usual, the idea of being seen made Elijah melt. He whimpered, begged Baz, Please, please. Baz kissed Elijah’s neck and stroked himself until he was stiff enough to put his cock where his fingers had been. He fucked Elijah against the glass, foot on a stool, whispering how bad he was to want to be seen getting fucked. How much Baz loved how wicked Elijah was.

  Elijah came all over the glass, and Baz came inside him. His head pounded for the effort, but once they’d cleaned up, they went to the bedroom, where in the shelter of the red lights Baz removed his contacts, his clothes, and climbed naked into bed with Elijah.

  He dreamed he sailed over the city, eyes naked and healthy, smiling as he held Elijah’s hand, flying together, just the two of them.

  He woke to a mouth on his cock, and when Elijah spied him grinning, he moved to Baz’s balls, his hole. Baz fell into the lovemaking, gripping the sheets as Elijah opened him, fucked him with tender care, nursing ejaculate out of him despite himself.

  Elijah lapped it up before treating Baz to a spunk-flavored kiss. “Let’s go explore the city today. Wander around. See what we can see.” He paused, glancing at Baz’s temple. “Are you up to it? Do you need to rest more?”

  Baz wasn’t missing more time with Elijah for anything. “I’ll be fine.” He traced Elijah’s face, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose. “I’ll be just fine.”

  Chapter Six

  WALTER AND KELLY came up to the suite for breakfast. Elijah had thought about suggesting the restaurant, but the room was so great, it was a shame to waste it. Kelly ate food he’d brought with him, in any event, though he did nibble on some bacon from Walter’s plate.

  “Where do we want to go today?” Kelly poured over a Las Vegas guidebook. “Do we want to tour casinos, see a show, or wander around?”

  Elijah had no real opinions on where they went, so he tuned them out while the three of them debated. Walter and Kelly politely deferred to Baz as their benefactor and host, and Baz did his best to goad Elijah into revealing his preference, but eventually they settled on the compromise of wandering through one of the shopping centers. They saw a place not far from Herod’s and went to the lobby, ready to trek toward the day’s adventure.

  The valet sent someone for the Tesla, and they got out of the way of people catching taxis. Except as soon as they got three feet beyond the shade of the awning, Baz got one shaft of the bright Las Vegas sun over the top of his glasses and swore as he ducked his head.

  Elijah herded him into the shade, ready to scold him for not wearing his “grandma glasses” as Baz liked to refer to them, the heavy-duty glasses with side shade extenders. Except Elijah saw he already had them on. Which meant he wasn’t as okay as he’d said, and he was pushing himself harder than he should.

  Baz waved off Elijah’s look of censure. “Just caught a bit too much sun. The glasses can’t block everything, and it’s damn sunny here.”

  “It is super bright.” Kelly shielded his eyes as he regarded the sky. “Would a hat help? Something with a wide brim?”

  Baz pulled a face. “Christ, I don’t want to look any more geriatric than I do with these damn glasses. I’ll be fine if I shade with my hand.”

  “I wonder if they have a gift shop. Maybe they have something fashionable.” Walter scratched his cheek. “Kelly and I could run ahead and find something. Surely they’ll have hats at the shopping center.”

  Elijah got out his phone while Walter and Kelly tried to help and Baz insisted he’d be fine. He hesitated a moment, worrying this was weird, then thought of Baz landing in his room, taking more drugs to make himself functional,
and decided, fuck it.

  Hey, Randy. This is Elijah. Sorry to bother you, but do you know where we could go to find a hat for Baz to keep the sun from bugging his eyes? He sent the text, then added, If it could be a higher-end shop with more fashionable hats, I’d have better odds of getting him to wear it. Thanks. And sorry again.

  A reply came almost instantly. No sweat. You want to go shopping, you’re telling me? Sit tight. I’ll be there in ten, and I’ll bring a hat he can borrow in the meantime.

  Elijah put his phone away. He let Walter and Baz and Kelly argue a bit longer before jumping in. “We’ve hardly used any of those chips Baz bought. Why don’t we go play, since we’re here? Maybe the sun will go behind a cloud.”

  The others seized on the compromise, everyone ignoring how the sky was bright blue and cloudless. After Elijah sent a surreptitious text to Randy letting him know the plan, they cancelled the order for the Tesla and played some video poker, some blackjack, and a few more rounds of craps. Kelly was making a case to play some roulette when Randy sauntered up to them.

  “Hello, boys. How are we doing this morning?”

  Elijah didn’t waste time. “Hey, do you know a good place to buy a hat?”

  Randy grinned. “I know where to buy everything in Las Vegas. Shopping, cooking, and poker are three of my four favorite things.”

  Kelly frowned. “What’s the fourth?”

  With a wink that made Kelly blush, Randy gestured to the front of the casino. “Come on, boys. Let me show you some of my playgrounds.”

  At the door, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a black cap with I’m all in stitched in white on the front of the hat. He slapped it on Baz’s head and motioned to the valet. “Can you call us an SUV?”

  The valet glanced at Elijah and the others in confusion. “Not the Tesla?”

  Randy stilled, facing them with an incredulous expression on his face. “You have a Tesla?”

  Baz had taken off the cap and was reading it when Randy spoke. He glanced up, his frown becoming a boastful grin. “Yeah. You want to drive it?”

  “Do I want to drive it, he asks.” Randy waved off the valet. “Change of plans. Bring their Tesla.” He aimed a finger at Baz. “You, buddy, are putting on the hat. Bitch about it all you want, Ray-Ban, but unless you want a spanking, you bitch with the hat on your head.”

  For a second Elijah thought Baz was going to make some kind of lewd remark about the spanking comment, but he only pursed his lips and put the hat on.

  A lot of people got excited about Baz’s car, but nobody had ever showed their appreciation quite the way Randy Jansen did. He had mirrored sunglasses on but whipped them off and whistled low as it approached, then spent five minutes circling it, nodding and murmuring to it in a sexy voice as he noted features, admired its lines, touched it lovingly.

  “Yes, you’re a sexy bitch, aren’t you, baby?” He crouched in front of the grill, leaned in, sniffed, and groaned as if he were about to come. “Jesus fuck, I want one. I didn’t know I did until right now, but holy shit, I need one of these in my life.” He glanced at Baz. “How’s she handle?”

  “No clue. Rides great, though.”

  Randy rubbed his chin. “Right, sorry.” He pushed to his feet with a sigh. “All right. Let’s go get you a better hat.”

  Baz sat up front with Randy, going over features and explaining the regenerative brakes. Elijah sat behind the driver’s seat, giving himself a good view of his fiancé. Randy drove them the long way to the shopping center, taking the Tesla out onto a desert road where he could push the car to a rather alarming rate of speed. He seemed to seriously know what he was doing behind the wheel, though, and Elijah never felt unsafe.

  “God, this car is a wet dream.” Randy sighed happily as he cast a glance at Baz. “Seriously, you’ve at least driven this in a parking lot, right?”

  Baz kept his gaze firmly out his window. “Didn’t see any point.”

  “You own the sickest car a millennial could own, but you don’t see the point in having actually been behind the wheel even once? Bullshit. But I hear you, a parking lot wouldn’t do it justice.” He tapped his thumb on the wheel. When he spoke again, his voice had an edge to it, leashed anger. “Did some poking around about the fucknuts who gave you your photophobia. Warmed my heart to hear what a rough time they’ve had of it in prison. Nice call by your uncle, to make sure they didn’t get off easy with something as simple as death by convenient accident.”

  The corner of Baz’s mouth tipped up. “Yeah, Uncle Paul doesn’t screw around.”

  A beat passed. Randy’s voice was still angry, but more taut when he spoke next. “Bashers got my uncle when I was a kid. Right when I could have used him around. Knifed him and left him to bleed to death in an alley.”

  Elijah’s stomach turned over. He glanced at Walter and Kelly, who appeared equally upset. In the front seat, however, Baz replied with the kind of gravity probably only purchased through grim experience. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah. Glad you’re here to be annoyed by your disability, though. And not just because you let me drive your pretty car.”

  The conversation got lighter then, but the serious moment had altered Baz’s grumpy mood. Given him perspective or something.

  When Elijah had texted Randy, he’d never meant for him to be their escort, but as Randy led them through a high-end mall, regaling them with details about every store they passed, Elijah was glad for his presence. Despite his plain dressing style, Randy loved shopping and had an eye for what looked good on others. He promised they’d get to hats eventually, but on the way he found flattering clothes for all four of them, some practical, some ridiculous. Even Baz began to come out of his funk, smiling in approval at a shirt Randy picked for Elijah. It was tailored, a kind of structured dress shirt. When Randy brought him a dressy jacket to go with it, Elijah tried to balk, but it was no good. Though when he checked himself in the mirror, he had to admit, he didn’t look bad.

  “It’s good, but I stand out too much.”

  “Right, but there’s blending in, Dakota, and then there’s hiding.” Randy regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “Though maybe you can do both.”

  He spoke with the store clerk before reappearing with something tucked into his palm. To Elijah’s surprise, it turned out to be a pair of glasses. Not sunglasses, but plain eyeglasses, except when he put them on, they didn’t have any prescription. He blinked at himself in the mirror. He looked…bookish.

  He looked kind of hot, in a sexy nerd way.

  Randy emerged over his shoulder, waggling his eyebrows as their gazes met in the mirror. “Nice.”

  Elijah pushed the glasses higher on his nose. “But it’s dumb. I don’t need them.”

  Randy leaned in closer. “Yeah, you do.” He winked and swatted Elijah playfully on the rear. “Let your boyfriend buy you some clothes and a pair of fashion glasses. And then maybe you can talk him into a hat.”

  The technique did work. Elijah let Baz spend a ridiculous amount of money on clothes Elijah didn’t need, plus the glasses, which Baz loved. When Randy finally took them to a section of a department store full of hats, Baz didn’t fight, only tried on the parade of options the shop assistant brought to them. He settled on a straw fedora with a broad, dark brown band and a tiny but jaunty feather tucked into the side.

  Once this purchase was made, Randy led them to another shopping center and treated them to lunch while helping them sort out what shows might be good ideas to see and how to best go about getting tickets.

  “What shows do you want to see?” Randy drew selections of sushi onto his plate as he listed their options. “There’s musical performers, the flashy performance shows, magic, comedy, adult shows—what’s your pleasure? We’ve got it all.”

  Kelly bit his lip and glanced at Baz and Elijah. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Cirque du Soleil.”

  “Which one? They have at least five shows going, and there are others with that kind of element, often produ
ced by the same people in Cirque du Soleil.”

  “I’m down for Cirque.” Snapping his chopsticks, Baz expertly picked up some raw fish draped over a mound of white rice. “Down for any of it.”

  Walter took a piece next to the one Baz had chosen, this raw fish more pink. “There really is a ton of stuff. Everywhere we went last night, people kept handing us flyers.”

  “Be careful of some of those.” Randy aimed his chopsticks at the last piece of sushi on the plate Walter and Baz had chosen from, then glanced at Kelly and Elijah. “You guys mind if I take this?”

  Elijah stared down at his California roll so his disgust wouldn’t show. “Go ahead.” Elijah didn’t even want to eat the stuff he had on his plate. He’d never had sushi, so it sounded great to try. But it was weird, and it tasted the way lakes smelled.

  They debated shows for about twenty minutes, everyone but Elijah interjecting with praises for the sushi. Elijah kept quiet, dreaming of cooked food and wondering when he could politely snag something at a fast food stand once they were out of the restaurant. Except when their server returned with a tray of more sushi, she also had a sizzling, delicious plate of barbecued meat, which Randy directed her to put in front of Elijah. When Elijah blinked at him in confusion, Randy grinned.

  “You had the look of a man craving some Korean barbecue. Go on. It’s great stuff.”

  It was great—wonderful, even—and when they left the restaurant, Elijah was full. Randy paid their bill, insisting it was no big deal. He helped them decide what show to see too, which ended up being Zumanity, a slightly risqué Cirque du Soleil presentation.

  “Just remember the real fun will be on New Year’s Eve at Herod’s. Caramela’s performing, and the casino will basically be Zumanity you can walk around in and play poker with.”

  They were walking down the Strip, sun beating on them so hot even Elijah wished he had a hat. He had on his fake glasses because Baz had insisted, but they felt weird to wear because he wasn’t used to them. Elijah kept pushing on the bridge, making them ride higher on his nose. He liked them. They were a barrier to the world. He could still see out, but the heavy black plastic frames rimmed everything, somehow rendering his environment safer. As if the glasses had put up bumper rails on reality in a game only he and his friends knew he was playing.