The Guy Next Door

Chapter 18

18

ZANE

I couldn’t help myself; I’m a greedy fuck.

The past few times we’ve gone to the gym together, I’ve had to have the strength of a warrior to restrain myself. I watched him for nearly an hour, getting all worked up and sweaty, having to find ways to distract myself from how hard he was making me, which sure as hell didn’t make my jog any easier.

I’ve thought each time we’ve showered off that, the way the stone divider at the entrance to the stall is placed, it’d be so easy to get in a fuck without anyone noticing. And as I spin him around, push him up against it, I get to see how right I am.

With his hands up against the wall, his gorgeous ass facing me, my mouth waters. I press my body against his, running my cock up between his ass cheeks. Leaning close to his ear, I whisper, “Stick this ass out for me.”

As I roll on the condom, he obeys, though his gaze keeps shifting to the entrance to the stall, like he’s expecting someone will catch us.

At this point, I don’t give a fuck if someone walks in; Leif’s ass is mine.

I lubricate the condom and place the bottle on a cubby in the wall before heading back to him and steadily working the head of my cock inside him.

As his ass devours my shaft, I can’t help enjoying how his body welcomes me now. “This isn’t like when it was a virgin hole,” I whisper against the back of his neck. “Now that your body knows how good it can feel, everything’s opening right up for me.”

“Jesus, can you keep it the fuck down?” He glances over his shoulder, his expression all worry.

He’s right, though. But the idiots laughing outside are too involved in their own shit; I’m sure we could be a lot louder without anyone catching on.

“I’ll be good, Leif,” I say, sliding in a little farther.

His expression relaxes, his mouth dropping open before his head rolls back.

I keep my movements slow, knowing I’ll have to keep this pace throughout; this isn’t the place for the kind of ass-clapping sex we usually go for.

As I work up my pace, Leif rests his forearms against the wall. And I speed up as much as I can, carefully ensuring my pelvis doesn’t slam against that sexy ass, which is a fucking struggle when I want to give him the kind of pounding he prefers.

I watch as my dick enters him, which has images running through my head that are driving me wild. I lean close to him, whispering, “I keep thinking about what it’d be like to fuck you without this goddamn latex between us.” I slide my hand down his back, around to his abs. “I want so bad to come deep inside you. Be the first man to mark you.”

He glances over his shoulder again. He looks concerned.

Fuck, great job, you fucking creeper. “Sorry. Not that I would ever want you to do that if you weren’t—”

“You think you have to apologize for that?” he asks, a smile sliding across his face.

My dick pulses in him.

His gaze drifts, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking until he says, “I got tested a few months after my last time, which was a long fucking time ago now. All negatives. And it’s only been you after that.”

“I’m on PrEP, and I get a full panel regularly. All negative here too.”

My thrusts have slowed. Are we really considering this?

I want it so bad, but even though it’d be safe, still feels like we shouldn’t.

No. There’s no way he’ll go for that.

I stop fucking him, waiting for his reply when he walks forward, my dick sliding from him.

Fuck, I ruined it. “We don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry I even mentioned—”

He reaches behind him and grabs my shaft, sliding the condom off my cock, and when I catch the next glance over his shoulder, he wears a mischievous smirk that lets me know I’m a fucking moron.

He places the condom in the nook beside us, then returns to his initial position, even spreading his legs a bit more like he really wants me to get up in there.

Another glance back to me. “What are you waiting for?”

Oh, Leif, you fucking incubus.

I move close to him. This is a bigger conversation than we can easily get away with in a crowded locker room, but still. “We do this,” I whisper, “and this ass is mine as long as we’re fucking around. That means you don’t mess around with other people. I don’t mess around with other people. You say the word, and that ends, but I don’t fuck around with shit like this.”

He leans close and kisses me, then as he pulls back says, “Agreed. Now. Get. Inside. Me.”

I chuckle. Nothing’s funny, and I can’t believe this is happening as I head back behind him.

Despite our serious chat, I’m still stiff as a board, surely because the thought of him taking my load right now is at the forefront of my mind. I put some more lube on before returning to him, pushing my head up against his hole, this time enjoying the sensation of flesh meeting flesh. Once again, his ass welcomes me as I feed it inch by inch until my pelvis is against his ass. I hook my arms around him, tugging his body close to me, and kiss his back gently.

When I was just watching him from next door, this was the kind of experience I would imagine, being buried inside him, our bodies pressed up against each other.

Keeping his body tight against mine, I thrust a few times. He vibrates against me with each greedy thrust as I revel in the sensation of his grip on my cock.

For a moment, the locker room is quiet, and I only hear Leif’s heavy breaths.

When the laughter and chatting resume, I whisper, “How does that feel?”

“Shut up. Someone’s gonna catch us.”

“Tell me how my cock feels in you.”

“Amazing,” he whispers. “In-fucking-credible.”

I snicker against his back as I run my hand down to his cock, stroking. I’ve still got some lube on my hand, only enough to make him a little slick as I pump him and fuck him.

“Fuck,” he says in a low, breathy moan.

“I thought we were supposed to be quiet,” I tease. “You thinking about what it’ll feel like when I fill you up? Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

“After I come, you want me to keep fucking my cum into you?”

Another low, breathy yes.

I pick up speed, hating how I have to restrain myself to keep from getting that familiar slap from his ass, but knowing the clap of my pelvis hitting the water really won’t help right now either.

“You dirty boy,” I go on. “Bet you wish someone would come in here just as I’m shooting in you, so they could see how good you are at taking a dick.”

His cock pulses in my grip.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? My dirty little Leif.”

I notice he hasn’t told me to shut the fuck up again, and I’m sure it’s because he’s enjoying himself too much.

He gasps, louder than he should, before warning me, “I’m close. Faster.”

He arches his back, serving me that ass, and I pound him as much as I can manage till I feel his body jerk in a familiar way, his ass gripping my shaft.

He’s about to come, and I know how he gets when he climaxes, so as the first sound escapes his lips, I put my free hand over his mouth, letting him call out into it as his cock expands in my hold.

I move my hand around his shaft quickly to catch some of his load, and it’s too much for me. The pressure mounts quickly, surging through me, and my body finally slams up against his ass, making a series of claps—I can’t help it—as I dump my load inside him.

I pull my cum-soaked hand back and use it to keep from repeatedly slamming against him.

“Did you hear that?” someone says from the locker room.

Fuck.

With my hand still over Leif’s mouth, I pull him close, my cock still buried in him. Our bodies are still trembling from our climaxes as we wait in anticipation before the chatting outside continues.

As I sigh, relieved, I pull my hand away from his mouth and he bites my fingers gently, playfully, making me chuckle.

I pull out of him, and he spins around, mouth against mine in no time before he shoves me back against the adjacent wall, his lips offering a series of kisses that feel like a thank-you for the amazing fuck.

My hand gravitates to his ass, and I run my finger down his crack, to his hole, massaging as I feel some of my cum dripping from him.

A smile tugs across my lips. “You are such a good fuck,” he whispers against my lips. “I liked it when you had your hand over my mouth like that.”

“I bet you did.” God, he’s fucking naughty. I love it. “But I think you need to finish your shower, you dirty boy. I accomplished my mission.”

His forehead creases. “Did you come in here planning to fuck me raw?”

“Nah. I just didn’t want you to be able to call it bedroom stuff ever again.”

He practically snorts out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. Then he presses his forehead against mine, releasing a much softer chuckle.

*

After I return home from the gym, I can’t get that fuck out of my head.

That it was in public.

That he let me fuck him raw.

That he let me breed his tight hole.

As much as I wish I could cling to the experience, it fades too quickly as I start pulling up docs in a folder on my computer desktop. I don’t even feel like I chose to pull this shit up, but I was compelled to look at what I’ve saved on Isaac Tolle.

It’s mostly stuff I’ve collected when I first started looking into him: His online profiles. Photos from his social media accounts. Information from LinkedIn, his professional website, the college website, and various other sources I came across during that period of obsession, including his personal emails.

As I go back through his CV, I’m reading it like there’ll be some sort of code embedded into it. Something that will tie everything together, the piece of evidence I’ll show Detective Roth and say, See! I fucking told you!

By now, I should get that even if this was my 500th time looking at it, it won’t be any more fruitful than the 499th. Still, there’s a hope that I’m wrong.

Ever since I saw him at the library Leif and Mike frequented, I’ve struggled against this gut instinct I have about Isaac’s potential involvement in Jason’s and my brother’s disappearances…and the break-in the night I stopped whoever the hell was in Leif’s place.

But as I expected, my brief trek through the information doesn’t do anything more than chase away my wonderful afternoon and drag me back into the anxiety-ridden past.

There’s no magic aha! moment. Nothing clicking into place.

I pull up my browser, heading back to my DMs on Reddit, where I see my last exchanges with Dman281, the mystery guy who posted about the note Mike received before he went missing.

Dman, I need to talk to you.

I just want to have a chat with you about my brother.

Please. You’re the only one who knows about this letter, and I have so many questions.

My messages were sent over a series of weeks, but he never responded.

I tell myself that even if he replied, it wouldn’t do me any good. Maybe he wouldn’t have anything else that could help me. But of course, my imagination has me convinced that he could have that missing piece I need to put it all together. Maybe some damning bit of info about Isaac. Hell, maybe about someone I haven’t considered.

Something. Anything.

It’s a wish, the fantasy of a mind that won’t be satisfied, not until I have answers for what happened to Mike.