Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(24)

The hard part would be keeping his feelings to himself, his attraction to Mevi.

The guy was counting on him.

He couldn’t let him down.

Especially not for his own selfish reasons.





Chapter Nine


Thank gawd!

Once Doyle had left, Mevi moved all his stuff to what would be his bedroom and jumped into the private shower there, quickly stroking himself and getting his first orgasm out of the way.

How sad did it make him that the way Doyle had ordered him to stay inside had made him hard?

I’m pathetic.

Gasping as the final echoes of his climax rolled through him, he slid down the wall and let the water beat against his flesh. His first moment of true privacy in what felt like forever. Even at rehab, had he felt like masturbating, he couldn’t have. The staff could randomly come in for checks at any time, even if he was in the bathroom. It was part of their protocols. Toward the end he had more privacy, but still, he didn’t want someone knocking on his bathroom door while he was wanking.

Not that he’d felt like it, so it was moot.

Maybe others got a kick out of possibly being caught in the act. He didn’t.

Although he knew Doyle could very well come in and do the same thing. One of the stipulations.

Finally, he stood and showered. As he thought about Doyle, about his intense gaze, his calm but strong voice, his deceptively laid-back ways, Mevi’s cock started inflating again.

He didn’t even try to fight the urge, giving in, imagining himself on his knees and swallowing Doyle’s cock to the root, even though he had no clue what the guy looked like naked, other than he could tell from the way his pants fit him that he had a cute ass.

The thought of his body under Doyle’s as the man plowed his ass, face-to-face so he could watch him come, watch each other climax…

He closed his eyes and softly moaned as the second orgasm burst free.

Then a laugh escaped him even as his cock softened in his hand.

At this rate, I might become a sex addict.

He hurried to finish his shower before Doyle returned.





Doyle heard a TV playing as he mounted the stairs to the apartment. Mevi sat on the couch, channel surfing. From his damp hair and the fact that he now wore a loose T-shirt and shorts, he guessed the man had showered.

“Anything good on?”

“Everything’s on. He’s got a great cable package, thank god.” Mevi set the remote aside and stood. “Can I help?”

“I got it. This is all.”

He frowned. “That’s not much.”

“Enough for tonight. We’ll go shopping tomorrow.” He carried the bags over to the counter. “Homemade tacos okay for tonight? Because that’s what we’re having.”

“That sounds good.” He walked over to help, and after Doyle gave him a test, they got started with dinner.

It was nice having someone to cook with.

It was also nice to see Mevi’s bad mood had apparently broken while Doyle was at the store. Had he not given Mevi the test, Doyle might have thought the guy snuck a drink while he was gone. But he knew Mevi had no alcohol on him, and the tape on the door had been undisturbed when he returned and removed it.

Or maybe he rubbed one out in the shower.

Actually, come to think of it, Doyle suspected that might be in his own immediate future. With a body stiff and sore from the drive, a long, hot shower and good, hard orgasm might be exactly what he needed to sleep through the night.

Too bad it can’t be in Mevi’s mouth.

He shoved that thought away before it hardened him right there. Hell, engaging in fantasies like that was a dangerous thing.

While they cooked, Mevi asked him about Sarasota, about growing up there, and they approached safe topics. Mevi had obviously loosened up, now that they’d landed in their temporary nest.

Plus the man could break out his guitar and really get to work, something else Doyle knew Mevi was looking forward to.

As if reading his mind, Mevi spoke. “Will it be okay if I work downstairs tonight? I can play in the living room but I don’t want to disturb you.”

“As long as you stay inside, yes. I’ll set the door alarm.” He’d pocketed the slip of paper with the alarm codes before Mevi had seen it.

Mevi’s lips curved in a handsome smirk. “No trust yet?”

“Absolutely, I trust you. Trust, but verify. It’s for your own good. I don’t like having to be a hard-ass, but you need to make it to Chicago sober if you want to be on the tour. You know that.”

“True.” Mevi added the pouch of taco seasoning and the called for amount of water to the pan of ground beef he’d just browned. “Been a long time since I cooked dinner.”

“What do you do at home?”

“Been so long, I couldn’t tell you. I know Clark cleaned out my fridge for me, and he had a trusted cleaning lady go in to take care of things once I was committed. He has my mail sent to his office to deal with.”

“How is that different than the last guy? Not saying I don’t trust Clark. I don’t know him. I know my friend who recommended me to him, and they apparently trust him.”

“Because he’s worked with the others in the band for years. Normally he doesn’t handle mail, but I was an emergency case. Everyone else usually has their bills and stuff paid over the Internet, and they have family or a friend or PA who gets their mail for them. Clark started out Bonnie’s guy, and the others eventually signed with him, too. I was with David for a while, thought he was a nice guy. Never thought he’d screw me over.