Page 7 of Not Even A Mouse
I wish
Myron, one week later
“Jesus.” He panted for breath as he reached to where his phone was propped against the wall. On the other end of the line, Andy did the same thing, theangleof the video changing from the artful presentation of a no-longer-erect cock to his sweating, smiling face. “You’re killing me.”
“If you’d jackwithme instead of after, you’d endthese calls in a better mood.” Andy laughed, light and carefree. He was still out of breath, his chest rising and falling fast but his relaxed smile was slow as molasses, making Myron’s heart lurch. “Did you like that one? You requested more dirty talk, did I deliver?”
Myron reached down and palmed his cock, touch too familiar to be erotic. When they were like this, he would sometimes get farenough into the scene he could convince his body that it was Andy’s hand.Not tonight. He hissed in frustration.
The reason for that filtered under the doorway, sounds of the party downstairs making their way to his room on the second floor of the Chicago clubhouse. Myron adjusted the earbud he had in place, ensuring there’d be no eavesdroppers on this very private conversation. He kept his voicequiet, pitching it just loud enough Andy could hear him through the mic. “I did like it. It was perfect.” Having his own private porn streaming on demand was more than a novelty, it had become the highlight of his days. “So perfect.”
Myron hadn’t lost the bartender’s number. He hadn’t lost the memories of what they’d done, either. He’d managed to wait a whole day before texting the first time,covering his eagerness to talk to Andy by asking about a zoo expedition Talya had rattled on about as they made pancakes. They’d quickly fallen into a routine of texts and calls on days Andy was off.
It didn’t seem to matter to his dick that Andy had a regular man in his life. At the beginning of every call, Myron promised himself he’d bring up the man in the picture, but then he’d imagine watchingAndy close off, expression shuttering, and he couldn’t do it. As long as they kept it to this, kept the distance between them while maintaining intimacy, Myron could tell himself it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Andy’s smile, his excitement, and yes, his dirty talk didn’t hurt, either. Myron knew if he asked and Andy answered, the walls that kept them safe would fall, andthe world would rush back in.
Myron’s position in the Rebel organization meant unless things were going down, he could carve out an hour or two nearlyanytime. Without letting himself ponder what it might mean, he’d tried to make a point of doing so each time Andy texted. This connection between them—whatever it was—had stayed strong, so much stronger than he could have predicted. Forallheliked his spreadsheets and formulas, and the probability of being able to plot out any given path, he’d found himself happily winging it with Andy.
“Are you coming back here soon? I didn’t hate this house as much when you were in it.” Andy’s pupils were still blown, dark and earnest, kissable pink lips puffy from biting them as he’d jacked and fingered himself. Words unguarded, undoubtedly bythe orgasm, he murmured, “I liked you here. Made everything…better.” He shiftedbackwardson the bed and grabbed his boxers, discarded early on during the call, and used them to halfheartedly wipe down before collapsing again. Andy’s face was nearer the phone when he whispered, “I want to see you again, Myron. Want to hold you.”
“I don’t know. I’ve told you things are a little…unsettled here.”That was an understatement. Diamante MCwasstirring the pot again, and Mason had called an all-officers meeting earlier tonight, pulling in men from a half a dozen chapters. That was the reason for the big blowout happening downstairs. Myron knew if he walked down the steps to the main floor, he’d be presented with a dozen different varieties of what Andy had just shown him, all female versions.“I’m gonna go now.” Andy’s bottom lip stuck out on cue, showing without words how he felt about Myron ending the call before he finished on his end. Voice he could accommodate, and had, his whispered pleas hit the air alongside Andy’s deeper commands.Videowas trickier, harder to refute if someone captured any of the footage. “Brat. You gave me a lot to use for inspiration.”
“At least there’sthat.” Andy grinned, but it died fast, falling away. “I wish you were here.”
“Me, too.” It wasn’t a lie. He wanted a world where that was possible. Where he could be the main attraction in Andy’s life. Heavy footfalls came down the hallway towards his room, the only door at this end of the building, which meant they were coming for him. He leaned towards the phone as he shoved his cock into hispants, wincing when his not-quite-wilted erection snagged on a button. “I gotta go. Text me.”
“You know I will.” Andy pursed his lips, and Myron disconnected with a smile, arching up to settle hispants aroundhis hips.
“Myron.”Thud. Thud. Thud. “Sorry to wake you, brother. Boss wants a word.”
“Be right there.” He listened to the receding footsteps, slowing his breathing. He’d never beforebegrudged the Rebels anything. They’d saved him. No part of his life was hisown,and that was how it just was. How it needed to be. No matter if it wasn’t how Mason saw it, Myron was body and soul a Rebel.
Sometimes, though.
I wish…
He didn’t finish the thought. Angling off the bed and stamping into his boots, he then reached for the doorknob.
