A Royal Christmas Cruise: Stonewall Investigations Miami Read online

  Even though the only guy I wanted under any kind of “toe” is you.

  Nick cocked his head and slanted that sexy smile. “What if we can bend the rules when no one’s around?”

  “I haven’t even said what the rest of the rules are yet.”

  Nick’s hands were beginning to roam over my body, slowly traveling up and down my side, fully putting me into a trance. I was like one of those sharks that go comatose when you rub their bellies.

  “What are the rules, then?” He was slowly pulling us toward the open stall.

  I couldn’t think. All I could focus on was the long rod Nick appeared to have smuggled onto the ship in his pants. The outline of his hard dick only deepened that previously mentioned trance.

  “Well…” My blood felt ten degrees too hot for my body. “I guess friends with benefits is a thing.”

  “It sure is.”

  Nick moved toward me, filling the needless space between us. His evergreen eyes drilled a hole straight down into my core. If he had said to forget friends, let’s be fake fiancés, in that moment, I’m pretty sure I would have agreed.

  Footsteps sounded toward us, owned by someone merrily singing a holiday tune. The sudden sound made us both leap halfway into the air. We separated, my cheeks dotting with heat as I went over to the sink and ran the water, pretending to have been washing my hands the entire time. Nick did the same at my side. We were conveniently using the counter to hide our erections as we shot quick looks at each other, the both of us having trouble subduing our smiles.

  “Hey, you two.” I looked in the mirror at a smiling Ace. I should have recognized his voice, seeing as he always took every chance he could to sing. And for good reason, too. He had American Idol written all over him. “Those Cinnabons really make your hands all sticky, don’t they?” He went to the open sink, grinning to the both of us through the mirror.

  “I haven’t had one,” I said, turning the water off, confident that I wasn’t pitching a tent in my shorts anymore.

  “Oh? I thought you got some glaze there.”

  “Huh? Where?”

  Nick watched this exchange. I leaned forward and Ace pointed at a spot on my neck, shiny with Nick’s saliva, red with his teeth marks. My eyes went wide. Ace shot me a mischievous look, his eyebrows twitching up as he darted a glance to Nick before turning to the stack of paper towels. “Wow, is it me or is it like twenty-five degrees hotter in here for some reason?”

  All right, now Ace was starting to fuck with us. He grabbed some paper towel from the neatly placed stack and dried his hands without taking his eyes off us.

  “I think something’s wrong with the heater,” I said, all three of us knowing damn well nothing was wrong with the temperature control on this ship.

  “Right. Anyways! Rex and me are going to go grab some drinks at the bar next to the Elves’ Workshop. The rest of the group split up to recharge in their rooms for a bit. Want to come get drinks?”

  “Actually,” Nick said, stretching. “I think I’m going to head up to my room. Maybe take a power nap.”

  “Same.” I dried my hands, trying to avoid Ace’s eagle-like glare as I wiped quickly at my neck. “Going to my room,” I clarified, as if I needed to. “For a nap. By myself.”

  “You guys are going to the ugly-sweater party tomorrow, right?” Nick asked, stopping my runaway train of word vomit in its tracks.

  Ace nodded with the excitement of a widely grinning bobblehead stuck on the dashboard of a car with terrible suspension. “Definitely. I’ve got one of the gnarliest sweaters ever known to mankind. It’s really ugly. I can’t wait.”

  “Can’t wait to see it.” We walked out of the bathroom. Ace threw an arm over my shoulders. He had meteor-sized blue eyes that made him look all the more innocent.

  “I’m glad the gang’s back together again. Just wish we weren’t missing Mason.”

  “Me too,” I said, giving a silent “thank you, baby Jesus” that Mason wasn’t here.

  Ace left to go get his drinks, and I walked with Nick to the elevators. On the way there, I could tell Nick was thinking about something. His blue eyes seemed to swirl with questions.

  “What’s up?” I asked as we started to reach the elevator bay.

  “I’m just wondering how someone could have let you go.”

  That caught me by surprise. “Oh, well… yeah. I wonder the same thing,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But whatever. Shit happens.”

  “What kind of shit happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “No, no. That’s fine. I guess if we’re going to be fake friends, you should know about my real breakup. His name’s Mason. He wasn’t the greatest, even though I thought he was. I felt like I loved him, but looking back… I don’t know. I don’t know if what I felt was love.” I dropped my head, feeling a heavy weight land on my chest. “It sucks. Basically all he ever did was eat potato chips, watch old movies, and sometimes ask for sex. But I became so used to it, I don’t know, I thought it was fine. I felt settled into it. Especially since we had started off as good friends, and I had known him for a couple of years before we started dating. I thought it would be fine, maybe things would click into place. And then, about a month ago, he ends up breaking up with me. He joined some crazy Rolling Stones cult. Don’t ask. But even then, right before the cult thing, I fully envisioned a future together with him. Sure, it was a shitty future, but it was still a future. And then he dipped.” I shook my head and straightened my shoulders. “I don’t know. Honestly, it makes me wonder… if I can’t keep that loser around, then maybe something’s wrong with me. Maybe I don’t deserve anyone better, if I can’t keep them around… I don’t know. I’m blabbing.”

  At the elevator, I pressed on the call button, trying to avoid eye contact with Nick. I felt dumb, saying it all out loud. I felt like I’d been duped. As if time had been stolen from me, even though I knew that wasn’t the truth. No one stole anything from me.

  “Shy, I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours, and I can already confidently say that everything you just said is a steaming pile of bullshit. You absolutely deserve someone who makes you happy, the same way you make others happy.” Then, as if to himself: “Everyone deserves happiness.”

  The elevator doors dinged open. A few passengers stepped out before we stepped in.

  “Whatever, it’s fine,” I said, not wanting to dwell on my shitty dating life. “Let’s meet on the deck after our naps. And here, let’s swap numbers real quick so we can find each other.”

  Nick and I traded numbers before I hit the fifth-floor button on the elevator panel. I wasn’t sure why, but I had been expecting Nick to be on the same floor as me. Maybe because I kept picturing him in the same room as me.

  He pulled out his key card and held it against the black pad before pressing the topmost button. The penthouse equivalent of our cruise ship.

  My eyes almost fell out of my skull, but I managed to keep my composure.

  Who in the world did I just trade numbers with?

  7 Nicholas Silva

  I pressed my key card against the pad next to the door. It blinked green. I turned the heavy silver handle and pushed it open, stepping into the living room of my two-bedroom suite. It felt like a large space, with modern furnishings that made me feel as if I were staying inside a floating five-star hotel in the middle of the ocean. The dark leather couch took up the center with two bright blue fabric chairs on the side, facing out toward the wall-to-wall balcony, giving me a breathtaking view of the endless stretch of blue. Christmas decorations dotted the room.

  I set my suitcase next to the four-poster bed, a trio of towel animals sitting against the pillow. They were three penguins, with red towels around their necks that made it look as if they all had scarves on.

  As I pulled off my socks, I began to really take stock of the situation.

  This wasn’t how I’d expected to start off my holiday cruise, but I certainly couldn’t complain. On the long fligh
t to get here, I imagined how my trip would go. I thought I’d spend it by myself, drinking at the bar or by the pool with a hat and sunglasses on at all times. At night, I’d hop on an app and see if there were any guys on the ship that would be down for some late-night experimenting. I’d have them come to me, and that way, I’d completely avoid the possibility of having anyone photograph the two of us.

  The idea had kept me hard for basically my entire flight. I had been turned on enough as it was, and then I bumped into the handsome and confident Shiro Brooks.

  More than bumped into him. We had locked lips in an explosive and spontaneous kiss.

  I had felt his body push against mine. I could feel him through his shorts, the same way he could probably feel me. And then in the bathroom… I couldn’t keep my hands off him. Or my lips. Or the rest of me. I had to have him, not giving a cruising fuck about who would walk in through that door. In a matter of hours, I was losing all inhibitions, and it was all because of this exquisite man. He did something to me, something none of my exes had ever done. He lit a fire deep inside my core, one I never wanted to see go out.

  My cock twitched, growing rock hard by the time I walked over to the large bathroom. For a flash of a moment, I considered whipping out my phone and calling him, asking him to come up to my suite. I felt comfortable giving him my number since I had left my personal phone back at home, but I knew calling him now might have been too much. So, instead, I’d handle things myself. I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them over my straining bulge. My briefs followed next, my stiff cock springing up. I gave myself a few strokes, letting my head fall back and my imagination run wild.

  But my imagination could only take me so far. I hadn’t even got to see Shiro naked. I couldn’t picture what he was working with. I couldn’t imagine how he’d feel, rubbing himself on me, skin on skin.

  I bent down and grabbed my jeans from the floor, and dug in the pocket for my phone.

  On my phone, I opened up a private browser and typed in the only address a private browser was used for.

  A screen with rows and rows of girls getting pounded in all different directions and positions filled the phone. I didn’t tap on any of them. I changed the option at the top, moving the bubble to the “gay” option and away from the “straight” one.

  The women were replaced by a screen of naked men, some alone, some together, some in threes and fours and fives. There were straight-passing guys being jerked off with blindfolds on; two beefy men sixty-nineing; a series of guys taking turns fucking a tiny blond twink.

  I opened up a few different tabs, choosing as if I had made the line at a five-star fucking buffet. I had spent much of my life hating how much I loved watching two (or more) men go at it, but no more of that bullshit. I wouldn’t regret liking what I liked, just as much as a straight person didn’t regret liking what they like.

  Fuck all that noise.

  I leaned against the bathroom counter, the cold marble stinging my ass briefly before I adjusted to it. I played with myself as I watched a video of a guy giving a messy blowjob in the back of a pickup truck. I spit in my hand, bringing it down and stroking, the sound of my wet skin on skin mixing with the loud and sloppy sounds coming from my phone. I dropped my head back and shut my eyes, briefly forgetting about the video, my mind drifting elsewhere, past the phone in my hand. I started to imagine Shy and the way his hand would feel gripped around my cock. How it would feel when it was his spit making me wet. When it was his tongue swirling around the head of my cock.

  I let out a primal groan and tugged on my nuts, letting the phone rest on the counter. I didn’t pause the video, but my attention was no longer on it. I looked down, admiring myself for a moment, how fucking hard I was, all because of Shiro and his honey-gold eyes. I wanted him looking up at me with those eyes, tears slipping from the corners as he gagged on my size. I stroked harder, my entire body tensing.

  But I wanted more. My body had been crying out in a desperate sort of way. I went over to the shower, cock swinging in the air, and turned it on, the showerhead dropping water down in what appeared to be a jungle rain shower. I stepped into the shower, closing the glass door and letting the water fall over me, pushing down on my tense shoulders, my sore neck. Shiro had me wound up. I flexed my muscles, rolled my neck, and then returned my hand down to my hard cock, the water adding a new layer.

  This shower was big enough for the two of us with plenty of room to spare. I pictured how Shy would look pressed against the gray-and-white subway tiles, his legs open for me, his cock just as hard as mine. I imagined myself turning around for him, showing him my back, my ass. And then I’d spread for him, letting myself be seen in a way no one else had ever seen me. I’d expose my hole, tease it with a finger for him, until he couldn’t take it anymore, until he pressed himself against me, buried himself inside me.

  “Fuck,” I said into the stream of water. I grabbed the bottle of soap and pumped some onto my fingers. But instead of reaching for my cock, I reached around, sliding my fingers between my crack. I shut my eyes and parted my lips, water dripping down them, and I played with my hole, my cock twitching with every little motion I made. My toes curled against the shower floor. I had only played with my ass a few times before, and all three of those times, I never actually pushed in.

  With Shy’s eyes emblazoned on my mind, I hooked a soapy finger and applied pressure, feeling the tight ring of muscle relax as I slipped in, a whole new world opening up to me. I explored myself, tentatively at first, moving my fingers in small circles, only going up to the first knuckle.

  My cock throbbed up against the falling water. I stepped to the side of the shower, out from underneath the rainfall, finger still inside me. I moaned as I sank deeper, the sound echoing off the glass of the shower. I could feel my inner walls tightening on my finger, almost pulling it deeper. I started to slide in and out, curling my finger, rubbing at my walls, not even touching my cock from fear that I’d blow instantaneously.

  “Oh fuck.”

  I kept going, hitting some part of me that had never experienced pleasure before, a part of me that shot stars directly across my vision. I stopped finger fucking myself and instead focused on rubbing that spot, feeling myself swollen and aching. I pushed and rubbed, opening my legs, lifting one so that I leaned on a ledge of the soaps. This opened me wider. My balls hung in the air, moving as I started grinding my ass back onto my finger, that spot growing warmer and warmer, my vision tunneling, my muscles tightening and loosening.

  An orgasm hit me with the same intensity as a car crash. I hadn’t even touched my cock, and it began to explode, shooting come onto the shower wall, rope after rope. My ass clenched tight around my finger with every single shot. Animalistic grunts escaped me. Noises I didn’t recall ever making as my balls unloaded, the wall looking like a Jackson Pollock painting by the time I was done.

  I pulled my finger slowly out of me, the sensation threatening to knock me off my feet. It didn’t help that my knees were shaking after that assault of an orgasm I experienced. Oxygen was difficult to find. I took a few deep breaths. It felt like I’d just been given the key to a secret city, one I only knew about. And it was filled with expensive wine and sex swings and Shiro. Everything I’d ever want.

  Under the rainfall I went, dropping my head back, letting the water run down my spent muscles. As the minutes started to tick by, I realized that my hunger wasn’t satiated. My cock still hung heavy between my legs, my hole still twitching. As good as fingering myself felt, as great as it was to come without any hands on my dick, I still wanted more.

  I wanted Shiro. I wanted him to be spreading my legs apart, feeling me from the inside.

  I jerked off one more time, surprised at just how much come I sent down the drain. After toweling off, my dick went back down to manageable levels, only a slight bulge appearing as I pulled on my white shorts. I didn’t even bother throwing on a shirt. I went over to the plush bed and dropped down onto the memory foam mattress, the quilt
sinking with my weight. The pillows were equally luxurious, feeling as if they had been spun from clouds and silk. I shut my eyes, feeling a deep exhaustion settle into my bones, caressing my muscles.

  It wasn’t a whole five minutes later when my phone started to ring. I checked, surprised that I even had service. Except it wasn’t a phone call; it was a FaceTime call, one that could come in through Wi-Fi.

  And it was coming from my mother.

  I rolled over on the bed, accepting the call, wondering what in the world she could be calling me about. Normally, she had one of the palace assistants reach out to me if she needed something. A FaceTime call was highly unusual.

  Unless…

  No. There’s no way…

  My heart started to pound as I sat up straighter against the headboard, pillow propped against my back. Had pictures gotten out? Was someone in the bathroom?

  “Hola, mamá,” I said as the call connected, the image slightly pixelated and a lag causing my mom’s smile to appear lopsided. She had her brown hair falling down in rivers onto her freckled shoulders, her hair shining even through the pixelated screen.

  “Nicholas! Oh, I’ve missed that handsome face of yours.”

  “Mamá, I’ve only been gone three days.”

  “That’s close to ten years in our time. You know that. With how fast things move over here, I feel like I’ll be twenty-four years older by the time you get back.”

  Okay, if she’s acting like this, then she hasn’t seen any pictures.

  I relaxed slightly. “Is everything okay over there?”

  “Oh sí, of course everything’s okay. What I can’t call my son if I’m missing him?”

  “You can, I just—”

  “Ay, look! Hold on, Nicholas, look who it is. Come over, don’t be shy.”

  Half of my mom’s lagged-out face disappeared from the screen, and half stayed on. It didn’t take long for her face to be completely replaced by someone else’s.

  The spontaneous FaceTime call made sense then, and it took everything in me not to tap the End Call button right then.