Into Temptation (part2)

Here’s the second installment of Chris and Kevin’s story, Into Temptation. In case you missed the first part, it’s here.

http://www.fictionwithfriction.com/2008/08/17/how-may-i-tempt-you/

The new stuff, in which there is manlove, follows the click through. Enjoy!

He should so not be here.

Kevin crossed the parking lot at Live Well Fitness just as the lights flickered on beating back the coming night. The chilly evening breeze ruffled his hair. He shivered and quickened his pace.

He should leave now, go running over at the college, or do some strength training back at the seminary gym, anything but this.

Hand raised to open the door, Kevin stopped. Once he opened that door and walked in and asked for Christian Taleo it would be too late. But he could still leave, just walk away, go back to his room and pretend he’d never come here. Yes, he could still do that.

The door opened and a woman in a pink sweatsuit and carrying a matching workout-bag smiled at him. She held the door open, like a temptation.

When Kevin reached for the door she made a little motion with her head. “Go ahead. I’ve got it.”

Chivalry, Kevin reflected, really was on life support if not entirely dead.

He nodded his thanks and stepped inside.

The smell greeted him first. New carpet, fresh paint and an underlying essence of sweat. The perky brunette at the front desk greeted him next.

“Hi, your name, please?” Long, glitter-polished nails tapped keys on her computer.

“I’m not a member.” He paused, took a breath. “Is Chris Taleo working tonight?”

“Yes, he is.” More tapping of keys. “Let me just make sure he’s not with a client and I’ll page him for you.”

Maybe Chris would be with a client. Please, let him be with a client.

“Nope, he’s free.” She picked up the phone.

Kevin opened his mouth to tell her forget it, never mind, don’t call him.

“Chris Taleo, to the front. Chris?” She hung up the phone. “He’ll be right with you.” She pointed to a clutch of chairs in an alcove. “You can have a seat over there if you want.”

Kevin sat down. A pile of magazines lay on a small table. He picked up the top one and flipped it open. On the page a scantily clad woman drank from a bottle, her eyes half-closed in apparent ecstasy. What the heck were they selling anyway?

Kevin stared down at the picture without really seeing it. He should be back in the library working on his paper for ecclesiastical law, or preparing his speech for Friday’s homiletics class. He should not be sitting in a health club waiting for a gorgeous, green-eyed Adonis to appear.

And why not? He could have friends. Celibacy did not have to mean solitude after all. It had been a long time since he’d met anyone he just liked right off the bat. Someone he just wanted to spend some time with. Just because Chris had looked at him like he wanted to eat Kevin up with a spoon, didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Just because you could light a lamp with the electricity that arced between them …

Kevin sighed. He’d been wrong not to tell Chris he was in the seminary. Wrong to let himself linger over how Chris’s eyes had skimmed down his body or how Chris’s fingertips had trailed over his palm. He would tell Chris tonight that he was studying to be a priest. That would set the relationship on the proper track. Assuming that after he told Chris there was even a relationship or a track or anything.

And what if Chris hadn’t been flirting at all? What if he was just making an overture of friendship? Kevin had never been very attuned to picking up signals or sending them out. Suppose he was completely wrong.

“Hey, Kevin! Good to see you.”

Kevin’s gaze lifted. Chris stood little more than an arm’s reach away. He wore black shorts and a black and white shirt that bore the club insignia over one of his well-developed pectorals. His skin was flushed, a light sheen of sweat gleamed on his face and arms and a few tendrils of damp hair curled around his face.

Was it his imagination or could he actually smell him?

Kevin dropped the magazine on the table and got to his feet. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all. I was just showing one of the members a new machine that just came in and I worked up kind of a sweat.” Chris caught Kevin’s hand and held it for a moment. Not a handshake exactly, more like a … Kevin didn’t know what. But there were those sparks again, jumping from Chris’s fingers to his.

Kevin pulled his hand back, maybe a little too abruptly. “Okay. Well. Good.”

Chris’s smile dimmed a couple of degrees. He slid his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “So, anything in particular you’d like to start with? Weights? Cardio? The pool?” He winked. “We have a hot-tub and a sauna too.”

Kevin pictured Chris’s perfect body slicing through clear, blue tinted water or gleaming with sweat in the steamroom.

He swallowed. “Wherever you want to start is fine with me.”

Chris studied him for a long moment, the hint of a smile playing around his mouth. He shrugged. “C’mon then, I’ll just show you around. You can try out some of the equipment, if you want, and we can talk about your needs.” Over his shoulder he said, “Lori, I’m doing a new member tour.”

“Gotcha,” The girl at the desk gave them a little finger wave, her nail polish flashing.

“I don’t know if I’m actually going to join.” Kevin fell into step beside Chris.

“Don’t worry about it. That will just keep them from calling me. As long as they think I’m giving you the pitch, then I’m all yours.”

Chris was all his. And they were going to talk about his needs. Great. Kevin’s stomach jittered with nerves.

Stop it! He’s talking about your fitness needs.

Kevin followed Chris down a flight of steps and through a doorway. In the weight room the sweaty smell was sharper, more pronounced. Kevin’s nostrils flared. All around them buff specimens of male perfection strained and grunted, muscles gleaming as they pumped iron.

Chris led Kevin over to a bench. “Do you lift?”

“Some.”

“Want to do some reps? I’ll spot you.” Without waiting for an answer, Chris hefted a barbell and set it on the stand.

Kevin had no clue what weight he’d chosen. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too heavy. He didn’t want to humiliate himself in front of this perfect example of male fitness.

Kevin lay back on the bench and Chris positioned himself above his head. Kevin set his hands on the bar, Chris’s hands ghosted just above it.

“Try two sets of ten reps. If the weight’s too much, let me know and I’ll grab a lighter one.”

Kevin shut his eyes. Lying there with Chris so close, he could definitely smell him, sweat and something sharper, more elemental. Kevin’s cock twitched.

Taking a breath, he pressed the bar up and raised it from the stand. It was a little heavier than he was used to, but not bad. Chris counted. Kevin worked.

The first set went okay. But by the third rep second set a sheen of sweat had broken out over Kevin’s skin. By the fifth rep his muscles were trembling and he was having trouble keeping his breaths even.

“Five more … Four … Three. C’mon, baby, two more. You can do it. I’ll help you.”

Kevin pushed. The bar lifted, this time far more easily than before. Clearly, Chris was taking a lot of the weight off Kevin’s straining arms.

“Ten! Yeah! Awesome!” They lowered the weight. Chris took something from his pocket.

Kevin sat up and wiped sweat from his eyes. “What’s that?”

“It’s my PDA. I’m just making a note to myself. When I set up your routine I need to remember what weights we used.” He entered something then stuffed the PDA back in his pocket. “I think this one was a little too much.”

“Don’t go to a lot of trouble. I’m not even–”

“It’s no trouble. It’s what I do.” He leaned in and spoke confidentially. “don’t feel like you have to join. Of course you didn’t hear that from me.” He winked. “I can give you the info, so even if you go somewhere else …”

“Where else would I want to go?” Good Lord, had he just said that?

Chris studied him. His eyes were so green and just then they held a speculative look.

“You look hot, Kevin.”

Kevin’s jaw dropped. Him? Chris was the hottie, not him. He was-

“Want to go get something to drink?” Chris gave Kevin’s shoulder a squeeze. “You look like you could use it.”

“Oh,” Kevin said, a little deflated in spite of himself.

Hot. Sweaty. Dying. Yeah.

Kevin stood, a little unsteady, but not, he thought, just from the exertion, and followed Chris out of the weight room. Instead of going back to the juicebar, which was what Kevin expected, Chris led him through a maze of hallways and stopped before a door marked ‘Employees Only.’

Chris pushed the door open and gestured for Kevin to go ahead. “This is the trainers’ break room. But nobody ever uses it.”

He should not be alone with this man.

Kevin went in.

The room was medium large with plain cinderblock walls. On the far wall hung a bulletinboard next to a door marked ‘Emergency Exit.’ Someone had propped it open with a book. A cool breeze blew through the gap and dried the sweat on Kevin’s face.

He looked around. The furniture consisted of two small couches, a table and four chairs, a small fridge, a TV and a coffeepot.

Chris went to the fridge, opened it and took out two bottles of water. He tossed one to Kevin then opened the other and drank deeply.

Kevin watched the muscles work in Chris’s throat as he swallowed. As if on its own, Kevin’s gaze slid down the other man’s body, the snug-fitting uniform showing off everything in excruciating detail. Something tightened low in Kevin’s belly. He tore his gaze away and quickly opened his own water and took a long swallow.

Chris lowered his water bottle, wiped his lips with the back of one hand and grinned at Kevin. “Man, all that watching you sweat made me thirsty.”

Kevin laughed and the swallow of water went down the wrong pipe. He choked. Water sprayed in a fine shower down the front of his t-shirt.

Chris rushed to him and pounded him between the shoulder blades hard enough to crack a vertebra. “Easy, Kevin. Man, I’m sorry.”

Two more thumps landed on Kevin’s back before he was able to gasp and drag in a wheezy breath. “Okay. Stop. Please, Chris, you’re killing me.”

“Oh shit, sorry, Kev.” Chris rubbed a slow circle in the same spot he’d been pounding on a moment before. Kevin felt the heat of Chris’s palm through his sweat-soaked t-shirt and suddenly he was very aware of just how close Chris was, close enough that Kevin could feel the heat of his body. And now he could very definitely smell him. A little hot, a little sweaty and a lot male.

Help me, Kevin prayed, because I am so over my head here. He sure hoped God was listening right about now.

Up this close, Chris’s eyes were so green. His long, sooty lashes looked soft as angel’s wings and like they would tickle if they brushed against his cheek.

Chris took Kevin’s water bottle and set it on the table beside his own.

Move, Kevin’s brain screamed. Step back! Push him away. Do something!

But Kevin did nothing, only stood perfectly still, as if mesmerized by Chris’s eyes and the shape of his lips and the heat of his hand against Kevin’s back, the shape of each long finger clear and distinct through his shirt.

Chris leaned forward.

Kevin leaned forward.

Soft, warm lips slid against Kevin’s. The tip of Chris’s tongue teased the closed seam of his lips. Let me in, the touch said. Kevin’s lips parted and Chris’s tongue slipped inside.

Fingers tangled in Kevin’s hair and angled his head so the kiss could go deeper. Chris’s other arm slid around Kevin’s waist and pulled him close against that hard muscled body.

Chris broke the kiss. “Hold on to me, Kevin. Kiss me back. I know you want to.”

He did want to. God help him.

Kevin wrapped his arms around Chris and held on. He had to or he would probably fall down, just crumple to the floor and die. He could count on one hand the number of people he’d kissed. And never, in all his twenty-four years of life, had anyone kissed him like this, like he was being tasted, sampled before the big banquet, the one where he was the main course.

“Kevin,” Chris breathed. “Why so tense, baby? Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” His hands slid down Kevin’s back to his ass. Cupped and squeezed, angling their bodies for more intimate contact.

Chris’s erection brushed against Kevin’s. He gasped.

“God, you feel so good.” Chris trailed little kisses along Kevin’s jaw then nipped at his earlobe. “I want you so bad, Kevin.” Another nip. “You know it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kevin whispered. He shut his eyes.

God. God. God. It was all the thought he could manage with the heat of Chris’s arousal rubbing against his, and probably even that much prayer was blasphemous under the circumstances.

“Come home with me, baby.” Chris’s hand slid between their bodies, his fingers wrapped around Kevin’s erection. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

Kevin opened his mouth but no words came out. He swallowed, licked his lips and tried again. “I can’t.” He gripped Chris’s wrist but couldn’t muster the will to pull his hand away. He was so weak, so wicked and so weak.

“Why not?” Chris stroked him. “I won’t do anything you don’t want, I promise.” His thumb swiped over the head of Kevin’s hard flesh.

Kevin whimpered.

How could he explain that that was the problem? He wanted, at least with his flesh, whatever this man wanted to do to him.

Kevin’s conscience poked him. Just tell him, it insisted. Tell him you’re going to be a priest, one of God’s representatives, a man of the cloth. Tell. Him. Now.

“Chris, I-Oh.”

Chris slipped his hands inside the waistband of Kevin’s sweats. Warm fingers brushed his hot, hard flesh. Gripped him. Stroked him.

Kevin’s hips thrust into the touch.

Oh. God.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me.” Chris kissed him again. Kevin’s head fell back as he surrendered his body and his will to Chris’s clever fingers and persuasive lips.

Chris kissed and licked, nipped and nibbled, all the while murmuring the most deliciously wicked suggestions of what he wanted to do to Kevin. In his bed. In the dark.

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut. His will to resist completely gone if it had ever been there at all.

He rocked into the touches, oblivious to everything but Chris’s hand and Chris’s voice and the need coiled tight in his belly.

“That’s it,” Chris murmured. “Give it up for me, Kevin. God, you’re so beautiful.” He gripped Kevin tighter, stroked him faster. “I want to fuck you so bad, Kevin. I want to make you come with my hands and my mouth and my cock. Want to come for me, Kevin?”

Chris rocked against him, his erection hard and hot against Kevin’s thigh even through his sweatpants.

“Oh baby, you’re so hot. You’re going to make me come. Come with me, Kevin. Do it now.”

Sparks raced up Kevin’s spine and down his legs. He made a sound, half whimper and half sob as his orgasm exploded out of him and over Chris’s hand.

“Ah, fuck,” Chris gasped. He thrust against Kevin’s leg, his arm going tight, tight around Kevin’s waist as he came.

Kevin’s heart felt like it might explode in his chest. Every muscle felt like rubber and for a moment he clung to Chris for support as he gasped for breath. Then the magnitude of what he’d done swamped him like a wave and he shoved against Chris.

“Let me go.”

“What?” Chris blinked, eyes going wide. “What’s wrong? Kevin, what is it?”

“Nothing. I just have to go.” Kevin shoved again. This time Chris let go and Kevin nearly fell. He stumbled back raising his hands in a warding off gesture when Chris reached for him. “Don’t!”

“What the hell?” Chris made a grab and missed. “Kevin, wait.”

Kevin whirled away. Yanking his sweatpants up he dashed for the emergency door and hit it with his full weight. It flew open and spilled him out into the night.

Written by Kimberly Gardner

As early as the seventh grade, Kimberly remembers slashing her favorite rockstars and reading romance. So it’s not surprising that her two passions, romance and putting pretty boys with other pretty boys, should come together in her writing. Moliere said, “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money.” Kimberly is delighted to finally be doing it for money.
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