Worlds Collide (Fan Service #6)

15. CJ

FIFTEEN

CJ

I bite down hard on my lip to keep myself from laughing the second Wolf realizes I’m not your usual tennis player. I aced that ace but I’m going to keep that fun little pun to myself. Or at least until he can close his mouth.

“You said it yourself, Maxi boy, I’m a trust fund baby, and I was put into tennis and golf classes before I turned four.” I let myself smirk at him and he actually snarls—teeth and all and no less scary from thirty feet away—so maybe a bit of a chuckle does come out, sue me.

“What the fuck is Maxi boy?” he demands from across the net.

“You know how every dog in every movie is called Max? Well you’re Wolf, that’s a canine, and you have an awful nickname for me, so I thought I’d return the favor, Max ,” I emphasize just to get a rise out of him.

The laugh finally wins out when he throws the ball over his head and hits it hard enough that it would’ve hit me right in my face if I hadn’t moved. He’s got good aim .

“Definitely going to keep that nickname if it makes you so mad, Max,” I shout at him and then I’m just running around trying to dodge balls for the next few minutes. He runs out of balls and I’m still laughing at him, but I spy a little tilt to his lips too. He definitely wants to laugh, I just know it.

“Pick them all up again and we can start this,” he shouts at me.

I take a few deep breaths as I pick up two balls and put one in my pocket.

“You ready to play fetch, Max?”

“Fuck you,” he shouts as my serve goes flying.

He wins that point.

Because I’m on the floor laughing.

I’ll never tell him mean nicknames are bad, because this is funny as fuck.

“How can this place not be full of people?” I wonder, seriously perplexed, then go in for more pancakes.

“I don’t know,” Wolf tells me. “But you’ll never hear me complain about getting some damn peace.”

“Please, you live on a huge ranch and probably don’t have to see anyone around if you don’t want to.”

“You have met my brother, haven’t you?” he asks with a raised, judgy eyebrow.

“Point,” I concede.

“So, did you really start playing tennis at three years old?”

“Yup,” I answer with a nod and take a sip of the also amazing coffee. “Well, to be fair, I’m pretty sure my nanny helped me hold the racket and the golf club for the first few months.”

“Huh,” is all he says .

“What?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I thought after so many years you’d be better.”

“Hey, Max, I beat your ass.” He snorts though I can tell he really tries not to.

“I won a set and the last one was seven-six. Yes you won, but you didn’t destroy me. Give me another six months using tennis to avoid my emotions and I’ll be winning a damn grand slam.”

Now I’m the one snorting. “You’re good. You’re actually pretty good with your Nadal-like ferocity, but you’ll never be that good.”

“Why not?” he demands in a high pitched voice. I smirk at him, mostly because I know he doesn’t like it.

“First, because professional players start way younger than in their mid-thirties?—”

“Mid-thirties?” he shouts, clearly offended but I just roll right through.

“And secondly, because they retire in their mid-thirties.”

“I am thirty-three,” he whisper-shouts.

“I know, Max.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and go back to eating.

I sigh happily after I’m done and lean back in the booth with my cup of coffee in my hands. Today has been surprisingly good. Even after Wolf apologized yesterday I didn’t know how hanging out with him would go.

I’m glad I decided to take a walk yesterday. I’m glad I found him batting balls like it was his job and he was doing his best to destroy the fence on the other side of the court. It was a new side to Wolf, just like seeing the way everything about him changed when he apologized was a new side. And today, the smartass part I already knew, but the funny side, the lighthearted side... those are new, and I’m dangerously close to stepping over the attraction line .

Liking Wolf seems like a dangerous game to play, kind of like Russian Roulette. Thrilling and possibly deadly. Yeah, that’s the best way I can think of to describe Wolf Storm.

Even now, after he laughed only a minute ago, he looks like there’s a storm brewing right over his head—no pun intended.

There are probably a thousand thoughts going through his mind right now, and his frown could be a permanent ailment, but to me it screams that nothing in his head makes him happy.

“So, what have you been doing all week locked up in your house?” I ask, trying to keep him in a good mood.

He shrugs but then sighs loudly, like it’s a terrible inconvenience to have to talk to me—I swear I’m on a roller coaster with this man.

“I finally unpacked the last of my boxes.”

“Only now?” That seems like a long time to have boxes lying around.

“Yes, I’ve been busy,” he says tartly. I roll my eyes. Seriously, how many moods can a man have in one minute?

“But weren’t the boxes in the way?”

“No,” he says and looks up at me like I’m the crazy one. “I put them in the room that’s supposed to be my office and closed the door.”

“You didn’t want to use the office?” I ask delicately. Seems anything can be like triggering a land mine with him, so I have to tread lightly.

“What would I need an office for? It’s not like I’m working, and also, I’ve never in my life used or needed an office.”

“Didn’t you have your house built?” Now I’m really confused.

“Yeah,” he sighs defeatedly and leans back in his seat. “The architect just suggested it and I went along with the whole thing. ”

“Well, you don’t have to have an office there, you can make that room into anything you want.”

He crosses his arms and looks at me like he’s focusing really hard.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” I take a sip and think about it. “How big is it?”

He raises an eyebrow and smiles darkly at me. “It’ll feel bigger than it looks. And it looks pretty big,” he tells me in a mock-seductive way.

I pretend I don’t suddenly get hot under the collar or that my shorts don’t tighten. “Ha ha,” I say without humor and lean in. “Seriously though, depending on the size you could make a home theater, you could tear down a wall to make another room bigger, you could make a library, or a man-cave if you’re into that kind of thing.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I guess the theater idea might work. There’s only one big window in there so it’d be easy to cover. And maybe four big recliners could fit in there too.”

“Oooh,” I say excitedly. “You could buy those that massage your back.”

“I have always wanted one of those chairs.”

“You should get one then.”

“But when they’re not turned on, are they even comfortable?”

“I think the level of comfort has more to do with how turned on you are.” I leer at him and now he’s the one rolling his eyes at me.

“Whatever,” he mumbles. “I, ah—” He coughs and clears his throat. “I actually also worked on my home studio,” he tells me while looking away from me. “I’m almost done with it.”

“I’ve never been to a music studio, can I see?” I’m genuinely curious about it, but the chance to see Wolf’s house is something I can’t pass up .

“Sure.”

“Awesome, let me just pay and?—”

“Why are you paying?” he asks with an are-you-dumb look on his face.

“Because I asked if there were any good places to get breakfast and then invited you to come with me, and Rich—your bodyguard—drove us here. You can get it next time,” I say, and hope I sound as breezy as I was aiming for on that last bit.

“Okay, thanks,” he grumbles and I just smile at him and scoot over to go to the register.

“Yeah, thanks CJ,” I hear Rich call out from the booth next to ours. I wave a hand at him and just keep moving.

Now that I’m not eternally furious at Wolf, I might be persuaded into going back to where we left off in that hotel room a couple of weeks ago.

Maybe.

“Did you put the studio in the basement?” I ask while we walk up to the front door of Wolf’s house.

“There’s no basement. I’ve always hated basements.”

“They’re creepy, aren’t they?”

“Yup,” he says and pops the p. “The studio is in the attic.” He opens the door and gestures for me to go in first. I do and then he points at the second door on the right. “That’s the office?—”

“Oooh, let’s see.” I walk right in and see it’s a pretty good-sized room. I’d say about ten by twelve feet, light hardwood floor from the looks of it. The only thing in here right now is a dark gray couch and it looks like it goes well with the one black wall and three white ones. “I think this is actually perfect for a movie room.” I look back and see Wolf looking around it with a frown. “If you want to, that is,” I amend. “I mean, if you’re not a huge fan of movies or shows, then?—”

“I am,” he says simply, and then his eyes land on me and don’t move away.

No hesitation, not even a second thought, I just launch myself at him.

And he catches me.

Less than a second after I slam my mouth to his, his tongue is pushing my lips open and sliding in expertly. He moans like he just tasted something decadent, and I shiver when his hands trail down my back to my ass.

“Shower?” he asks against my mouth.

“Yes,” I pant when I put a little space between us. “That’s a good idea.” He makes me shiver again, and all my nerve endings come alive when he slowly slides his hand up, then around my arm then back down to take my hand. He squeezes a little then takes a step back, then another and another. I follow with my eyes glued to him, up the stairs and into his bedroom. I can’t focus on anything but his gray eyes shining like beacons, but his room smells woodsy, like he does.

He starts the shower then turns back and kisses me once, quick and soft. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch him go, then take off my clothes and put them on the edge of the free-standing tub that has a huge window looking out to the amazing view of the infinite Pacific, before walking into the shower on the other side of the bedroom. For some reason, the two sinks give me pause—I never thought Wolf would have something like that, but maybe it’s another thing his architect suggested that he just went along with?

I smile when I see the jets under the controls of the shower but step under the showerhead and throw my head back. A shower really was the best idea. We didn’t bother with one before we went to the diner, and since no pictures are going to interrupt us today, I’m hoping we can just spend hours and hours in bed this time.

Neither one of us has anywhere to be and—“Hey,” I yelp when arms wrap around me. I didn’t hear Wolf come in. His mouth goes straight to my neck and I tilt my head to the other side to give him all the space he needs. His hands move in gentle circles around my abs, my chest, and then he tweaks one of my nipples and a moan escapes me.

No one has ever played with my nipples before... It’s interesting, to say the fucking least.

He’s hard and pressing against my ass without shame, and I rub against him just as freely.

“Want me to get you ready this time?” he asks in a husky voice against my ear. I snicker the second the word husky flits through my mind. “What?” he asks in a growl and reaches down to squeeze my erection none too gently. I like that.

“Yes, please get me ready,” I say first. “And I just thought your voice sounded husky and well...”

“I’m not a damn dog, little rich boy.” His usual growl only makes me smile more.

I turn around fast and bite his bottom lip as I grind our cocks together. “I’m also not little,” I whisper with a smirk. He swats my ass playfully and this time my laugh is full and loud.

“You’re my little rich boy, and that’s what matters.” The possessiveness in his tone has goosebumps breaking out all over my body, but I ignore them and plow through.

“You gonna let me blow you this time?”

“Hm,” he says contemplatively as he squeezes my ass and rubs his palms over it, seemingly without any hurry. “I want to come inside you again, but after that, sure, you can suck me off,” he says, like it’s a great sacrifice.

I snort and go for another kiss with a shake of my head. “Be a good boy, Max,” I whisper right before our lips meet, and I kiss his growl away.

I get lost in the kiss, in the way he takes me over and dominates every single movement. I barely register it when one of his hands stops touching me, and when it comes back colder. I realize later it was probably shower gel. Once he’s done washing my ass so thoroughly someone could eat out of it—and damn that’s a thought—he brings them around, full of suds, and washes my arms, my armpits, my chest.

“Get your hair,” he demands in a gentle whisper.

I do as he says, wordlessly, and when I’m done and have washed away the shampoo, I get to work on his hair. It’s even longer now, so I take my time with every strand. It’s so painfully intimate. The whole thing has my heart melting—mostly because of how focused Wolf is on me—and keeps my dick hard.

Wolf washes his body quickly and thoroughly, and then his arms are around me again and he’s making me lose my mind with his mouth.

There’s nothing in the world short of a coma that would prevent me from reacting the second he swirls one slick finger around my rim. My back arches and our mouths separate enough that I can moan to my heart’s content. “More,” I beg.

Wolf lowers his head slightly and bites down on my neck at the exact moment his finger breaches me. I push back against him and get just a little bit more, but I turn a bit feral with my need for him.

I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull so he’ll look up at me again and crush my mouth down on his. But Wolf isn’t one to be dominated, not at all. He turns us around and walks two steps forward until my back hits the cold tiles. The shock of it distracts me enough for Wolf to take the upper hand. And I don’t mind one bit.

I let him do whatever he wants and when I feel he’s slowing down, I just goad him. It works like a charm, so when he’s finally pushing three fingers inside me, I’m practically fucking myself on his hand and enjoying every second.

“You want to come like this?” he whispers tauntingly.

“No, please.” My words sound like a whine.

“Please what?” he asks, still talking with an infuriatingly calm voice.

“Just fuck me already.” Now I’m the one growling.

“All right then,” he says simply and steps back, sliding his fingers out and leaving me panting, achingly hard and desperately empty, leaning against the wall for support. “Come on,” he says and gestures for me to get out.

“Damn you,” I mutter as I pass him. He chuckles and turns off the shower. I just snap a towel off the warming rack and dry myself off fast then walk out into his room.

Seeing it now, I realize this is exactly what Wolf’s bedroom should be.

It has light gray walls, a few plants here and there, a ton of pictures spread all over, and a huge bed with a light beige duvet that looks like a cloud. I walk right over and fling it away so it hangs off the end of the bed, then climb up and wait for Wolf to come out here.

There’s a slight breeze but I don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s not cold though, just comfortable. I feel... yeah, comfortable. Way more so than I did at the hotel or at the Altons’ house in the Hamptons.

I’m breathing normally and calm when Wolf comes out, although my dick is still hard and so is his, swinging with every step. I can’t tear my eyes away from it. It’s so thick and red. Probably as hard as my own.

My mouth waters with the need to taste the drop I see on the tip. Is it precome or just water from the shower? Fuck, I want to find out.

“You get to choose this time, little rich boy,” he says in a dark voice and grabs my calves softly. Then he trails his hands up to the backs of my knees and back down almost to my ankles. For some reason that’s what has my breaths speeding up again.

“Choose?” I ask distractedly.

“You can ride me, or you can get on your hands and knees and take what I want to give you, however I want to give it to you.”

My head swims with his words and it takes me a solid ten seconds to focus and even start thinking about the two options.

Wolf smirks down at me and lets go—which actually helps clear my head of all the fog he put there. He goes over to the nightstand, grabs the condom I hadn’t realized was there, and puts it on.

He’s done just in time for me to make a choice. I shift my feet under me and kneel up on the bed, reach for his cheeks, and kiss him softly. “I want you just how you are, Wolf.” I whisper the words against his lips and lean my forehead on his. “Give me whatever you need.”

Then I shift back and turn around, get on my hands and knees and literally present him with my ass. His eyes don’t stray away from my face while I get into position, and not even when I’m ready and looking back at him.

But after a moment he must find what he was looking for, because he looks down at my ass and bites down hard on his bottom lip.

“Such a pretty ass,” he mumbles almost to himself as he palms both my cheeks. Then he’s climbing up and kneeling behind me, holding me open with one hand and lining up his covered cock with the other one.

I can’t look away from him, from how every muscle in his body is straining and his jaw is bunching. I wish I could see what he’s seeing, the way he slides into me, and I’m about to ask if he can take a picture when he rams into me.

Then I’m back to not being able to think at all.

He sets a brutal pace and doesn’t stop. At all. His hands grip my hips or occasionally move up to explore my back. I arch for him even more every time he hits my prostate, and I want to reach down and get myself there but I fear I won’t be able to keep myself up with only one hand.

I feel like I’m about to cry with the desperation to come, when he grabs my shoulder and pulls me up so his chest is flush with my back. He reaches around me to take my cock, and strokes me with the same ferocity I saw out on the court yesterday, and the same ferocity with which he’s thrusting into me.

He bites down hard on my shoulder and that does me in. I spill all over his hand with my arms uselessly hanging at my sides, and just a few seconds later he groans deep and long and comes too.

We stay like that for long minutes, enjoying the afterglow of our orgasms. Wolf must be resting on his haunches because I’m fully sitting in his lap. He’s still inside me, and I really wish we could stay like this for a lot longer, but eventually his grip loosens from my spent cock and he gently pushes me forward. He slips out of me and the loss is both a blessing and a curse.

I lie down on my side and see him get a tissue to wipe his hand, and then he walks back to the bathroom. The condom is gone when he comes back, but he makes me smile like a lovesick schoolboy when he uses a small towel to wipe my ass of any remnants of lube .

“Come here,” I ask in a whisper and offer him my hand. He looks down at it for so long that I start to fear he’s going to refuse and ask me to leave, but he takes my hand. He kisses the back and then lies down next to me with his head resting on my other extended arm.

I let out a big sigh when he circles my waist. I feel more content than I ever have.

Maybe this is the answer. Maybe it’s all going to be okay once the media storm dies down.

“It’s weird,” I whisper while looking into his stormy gray eyes.

“What is?” he asks, and lifts a hand to swipe away a strand of hair from my forehead.

“I’m actually glad I got suspended from my residency.”

Who would’ve thought saying something so innocuous would bring the storm right back?

“Suspended!?” he shouts, with fury in his eyes.

Oh, lord.