Passing to Payton (3 page)

Payton grinned, slowly sliding his hand from under the towel. “Guess it’s only fair, seeing as how you’re practically naked.” He reached behind and pulled his shirt up from the back and over his head, giving Jamie a good show of flexing ab muscles and winking pectorals.

“Dude,” Jamie groaned this time. “Now who’s trying to make who blow an early load?”

Payton raised an eyebrow, but had a blushing grin. “Like what you see?”

Jamie reached for Payton’s jeans and popped the button. “Since the day you jogged onto the field.”

The man laughed at that. “Man, I thought it was just me, checking you out when I hoped to God no one was looking.”

“Seriously?”

Payton’s grin flat lined and his eyes darkened. Yanking the towel off Jamie’s groin, Payton’s voice went deep. “Seriously.”

Then before Jamie could catch his breath or get Payton’s zipper all the way down, the big guy was on his knees, eyeing up Jamie’s cock. Payton’s tongue skirted his lips and his hands coasted up Jamie’s quivering thighs. “I’ve never... But fuck, I want to taste your cock so bad, Jamie.”

Jamie wove his fingers into Payton’s damp hair. “If you want to, I won’t stop you. But, only if you want to. We can go as slow as you like.”

“I want,” Payton said with determination in his voice, as if he was completely accepting his queer self and the desires he had. “We may need to go slow, because I got no practice in this, but I most definitely want your cock in my mouth, right fucking now.”

Hearing those words had Jamie’s dick spurting a long drizzle of precum as his stomach tightened. Payton grinned at that and seemed to take it as an invitation to use his tongue to lap up the precum like it was frosting. And holy shit, what Payton lacked in practice, he made up for in raw talent that had Jamie quaking against the countertop.

The tip of Payton’s tongue swirled over Jamie’s cockhead then down to the base and back up in a slow-motion, tortuously-thorough inspection. Payton’s lips rounded around Jamie’s tip then sucked it in, his tongue dipping into the slit in a rapid tease. Jamie’s hands gripped both Payton’s hair and the edge of the countertop, his eyes winced shut and he cried out before pulling his dick away from Payton’s mouth with a pop.

“Fuck!” Jamie’s curse echoed across the tiles.

Payton remained on his knees, looking up. “Did I do something wrong?”

Jamie’s wide-eyes met Payton’s concerned gaze, and his heart nearly fell out of his chest. “No, Payton. That was...” He huffed out a breath, unable to find the right words. “I didn’t want to come yet, and you were just too damn good.”

The blushing, boyish grin reappeared on Payton’s face. “Oh. Because, I could honestly do that for like, an hour... or two...”

“Liked having my dick in your mouth, did you?”

“I did.”

Jamie stared down into those deep green eyes, finally finding the confidence off the field he’d always had trouble maintaining. “Did it make you hard, Payton?”

Payton’s body gave a little shiver and his eyelids half closed. “It did.”

“I want you to show me.”

An exhale passed from Payton’s open mouth and his fists clenched against his bent knees. Then, in a fluid motion that displayed the true grace that the massive tight end used on the field, Payton stood. His hands slid down his legs as he kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans, turning to give Jamie another nice view of that glorious tight end.

“I see tight end isn’t an oxymoron...”

“What?” Payton blinked over his shoulder then glanced at his own bare ass with a blush. “Oh. I... I’m not sure if... I’m ready...”

“It’s okay,” Jamie smiled, already knowing where Payton’s nervous stuttering was going with that. “Your ass isn’t my end game, Payton. Maybe, someday, but that’s a big step.”

“It is,” Payton agreed, turning around to face forward. “I mean, I want to try it someday, with you, but... Maybe buy a guy a beer first?”

Jamie laughed then choked as his eyes fell to Payton’s cock. Like the rest of the man, it wasn’t small. “Fuck, dude. Did you eat nothing but hormone-fed beef growing up?”

Payton’s cheeks burned crimson as his thick, left-leaning cock twitched. “Well, my folks do own a cattle ranch.”

“That... explains a lot, actually,” Jamie smirked then reached out and pulled Payton closer by his cock. It wasn’t overly long, but damn, it was a handful. Payton let out a little grunt as Jamie’s fingers trailed along the shaft, getting a feel for it before holding its hot weight in his palm.

“Jamie,” Payton gasped, his hips jutting forward. “I ain’t gonna last...”

“Then I better make it good.” Jamie kissed the center of Payton’s chest, then his chin and finally his lips. Letting go of Payton’s cock, Jamie took the man’s hand instead. “C’mon.”

Payton stumbled out of his daze and followed the lead. Jamie took them into his bedroom then gave Payton’s chest a gentle shove. “On the bed, cock up.”

“Oh, fuck,” Payton muttered as he complied. “I don’t think I could lay any way but cock up right now, with as hard as I am.”

“I like this,” Jamie smiled, taking a moment to admire the view.

“Hmm?” Payton lay in wait with a raised eyebrow.

“I like you in my bed. I... Well, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a few dreams of you like this.”

“You dream about me?”

“All the damn time,” Jamie admitted as he searched through his nightstand and retrieved a bottle of lube. Setting the bottle on Payton’s six-pack, he winked. “Now, don’t fumble the pass, Payton.”

Payton’s green eyes went wide as they stared down his torso at the bottle standing as upright as his dick. His abs flexed and he held his breath to keep the bottle steady as the mattress shifted under Jamie’s movements. Jamie slid up between Payton’s trunk-like thighs, mounting the man with their cocks side by side.

“Show me your palms,” Jamie ordered, smiling as Payton immediately did as asked. Payton watched with increasingly wider eyes as Jamie drizzled some of the clear lube into the big hands Payton presented. “Man, your hands are huge.”

“That’s why I can carry footballs.”

“Well, now you’re gonna carry a couple of cocks.” Jamie took Payton’s hands and encouraged him to surround their erections. “Mmfuck, yeah. Hold tight, Payton. Yeah, just like that. Don’t fumble.”

“Don’t fumble,” Payton repeated, followed by a groan as Jamie gripped the underside of Payton’s knee before thrusting hard.

Jamie stroked his cock against Payton’s dick and the man’s firm grip. Slick, slapping sounds filled the room as they rutted, and the grunts coming from Payton had Jamie ready to come.

With an inhale to steel his courage, Jamie let his fantasy come to life as he gave voice to the words seated on the tip of his tongue. “You like that, Payton? You like me fucking your cock?”

Payton’s grip tightened. “Fuck... Yes...”

Jamie thrust harder, this tip of his cock sliding along the ribbed, calloused texture of Payton’s grasp. It was better than Jamie could’ve ever dreamed, and the way Payton was writhing beneath him was so fucking beautiful. “So good, Payton. You’re so damn good.”

“Jamie,” Payton whimpered. “Love it when you talk...”

Oh my fucking... Yes!
“Yeah? You like that?”

“Yeah, I like it.”

Jamie groaned and stroked harder. “You feel my sac hitting yours? Hear that slap?”

“Love that sound... I love your dick in my hands,” Payton muttered, his eyes rolling back. “Jamie, I’m gonna... Oh, fuck...”

“That’s it, Payton. Come for me. I want to see your cum coating my dick and-”

And that was all it took. Payton’s moan choked in his throat, his hips rose and then three long jets of milky white cum coated his hands, his stomach and Jamie’s dick. Jamie’s fingers dug into Payton’s thigh and pectoral as the sight of Payton in ecstasy pulled Jamie over the edge.

“Fuck yeah, Payton!” Three hard thrusts of his cock slicking through Payton’s cum, and Jamie was done for. The orgasm rocked him like a blindsided tackle. It had him gasping for air, leaving him speechless and quivering.

The deafening buzz and blinding stars dissipated. He blinked back to reality, greeted by the sight of Payton’s wide grin. With heavy, panting breaths, Jamie placed a kiss centered on Payton’s chest. His lips captured a mix of their essence, and he licked his lips clean while Payton watched.

Jamie gave the man a wink. “Good job not fumbling. Was that good for you?”

“
Good?
” Payton huffed a laugh. “Shoot, Jamie, I saw stars. And... I think we’re gonna need to take another shower.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll wash yours if you wash mine.”

“F...uck...” Payton blew out a breath, his head sinking back against the pillows. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”

Jamie chuckled as he reached over the side of the bed for a random workout shirt. With affectionate care, he cleaned up Payton’s hands and the rest of their mess then stood up on wobbly legs. Tossing the shirt near the hamper, Jamie opened a dresser drawer, pulled out a box then returned to the bed.

Payton propped himself up on a pillow against the wall and eyed the plain brown shipping box. “What’s that?”

Jamie sat on the bed and handed over the box. “Your actual birthday present. Sorry it’s not wrapped, but it didn’t get here until two days ago.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Payton argued half-heartedly, his fingers opening the flaps on the top of the box. He reached in, lifted the Blu-ray set out and that boyish grin made a comeback. “Dude! This is that whole World War One history series I missed!”

“I know,” Jamie blushed. “You cried about it for days after you realized Tucker recorded over it with his addiction to wrestling.”

“I did not cry! Okay, maybe a little... Man, this is great. Thanks.”

Seeing Payton so happy filled Jamie’s heart with warmth, and also with a feeling he wasn’t quite ready to admit. Pushing that aside for a later, he focused on the current forward motion he was making with Payton. Taking it one play at a time, Couch would say, is how you win football games. Jamie figured it probably worked for relationships, too. “Glad you like it.”

“I love it.” Setting the box aside, Payton opened his arms. “Sorry, man, but I’m a cuddle-after-sex kinda guy.”

Could it get any more perfect
? Jamie crawled into the big man’s arms. “Fine by me,” he exhaled, truly happy, but not without a tiny tremor of anxiety. “So, are you really ready to come out to the rest of the team? Because if you’re not-”

“I’m not hiding us,” Payton said, his arms tightening their hold. “I mean, I like the thought of
us
, you know? We were friends, and now we’re boyfriends. So, the rest of the team can just deal with it.”

“Boyfriends. I like that.”

“Yeah? I ain’t never had one before, but it feels right with you. Dang, is that weird for me to say?”

Jamie smiled against Payton’s chest. “Nah, man. Not at all.”

“I’m a bit nervous, honestly,” Payton admitted. “But, tonight is my birthday, and I plan on walking into Taters with your hand in mine, and I don’t care who might have a problem with it.”

Jamie snorted. “Why Taters?”

“Tucker’s idea,” Payton chuckled. “His sister works there, and she promised him they wouldn’t have a problem celebrating a gay man’s birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, especially after we just secured the Sooners’ spot in the Cotton Bowl.” Payton’s hand coasted down Jamie’s back. “People are coming around, I think. Maybe they realize there ain’t no sense in denying people happiness, you know?”

“I think we’ve got a long way to go,” Jamie sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into Payton’s comforting embrace. “But I do think things are changing. Well, mostly. Peterson will probably always be a douche.”

“David ‘The Douche’ Peterson,” Payton laughed. “Has a nice ring to it. Maybe we can get a jersey made up for him.”

Jamie groaned a bit. “I don’t feel like dealing with his negativity tonight.”

“Won’t have to.”

“What? You didn’t invite him?”

Payton held in a chuckle that caused his chest to vibrate. “Oh, we did. Tucker told him we were meeting at eight-thirty... At Stonewall.”

“Stonewall? But... It’s ‘gay techno night’ at...
Oh...
Wow, that’s harsh.” But the idea had Jamie nearly doubled over in Payton’s arms as they both laughed.

“Don’t worry. Tucker and LeBron are gonna stop by and see if he’s ready to play nice... Heck, who knows? Maybe he’ll find some pretty boy to set him straight.”

“They may also find him curled up in a ball in the corner, whimpering about fags in short-shorts.”

“And if that happens,” Payton shrugged, “Tucker promised to take a picture of it for us. Now,” Payton’s hand skimmed down Jamie’s backside to squeeze his ass. “How about that shower?”

Thank you for reading Jamie and Payton’s story! For more great and free reads, visit
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If you enjoyed this story, you may also enjoy reading the following.

Sometimes moving forward means going right back where you started…

Sam’s ended up right back where he started – the small Texas town he swore he’d never step foot in again after making fast tracks to SMU. He’s not the young, gay kid he was when he left. He has a music degree now, with no job and is about to lose his dorm room…

When an old friend has him coming back to where he started, Sam struggles to deal with muddled memories and an unexpected reality. Things in Alvarado aren’t exactly how he remembers them, and neither is his arch nemesis Cody Greene.

The two men get stuck together by a promise, and the bitter memories that Sam had held onto for five years begin to unravel. When the dust settles, Sam and Cody have to decide if they can let go of the past to build a future.

Right Back Where is a gay (m/m) romance set in Alvarado, Texas. Although part of a series set in Alvarado, it is a stand-alone story with a HEA and no cliffhangers. It deals with subject matter that may be offensive to some readers including bigotry, homosexuality, and yes – two men kissing. It’s also a story about hope, how a whole town can be changed by one event or one person, and that love at first sight can happen, even if you’re blind to it for a very long time.

If an uplifting story about romance, laughter and overcoming preconceptions in a small Texas town sounds like your cup of tea, then welcome to Alvarado!

Where to Get It:

Goodreads
  |  
Amazon Print
  |  
Amazon eBook

Read the first chapter:

Right Back Where

Five years later, almost to the very day, I’ve ended up right back where I started – the city limits of Alvarado, Texas. Staring at the wooden sign welcoming folks to the oldest town in Johnson County, it takes me a second to accept that I’m actually here – that I’ve actually come back to the place I swore to never step foot in again. It’s like the damn nightmare I used to wake up in cold sweats from those first weeks of my freshman year at SMU.

The terror of finding myself right back where I started, like I’d never even left.

Well, that’s not 
entirely
 true. I’m damn sure not the same eighteen-year-old boy that’d gotten on the bus two days before high school graduation and never looked out the back window. Okay, so I’m still too damn skinny, a bit on the short side and my blond hair never matured enough to let me grow a beard. But, I’m an adult, standing on my own two feet with a university degree in music education.

That should mean something to help ease these damn nerves, right? Apparently not. I’m not sure that a small town like Alvarado cares about my degree, or that I’m an adult. No, I’m pretty sure the people living beyond this welcome sign don’t care about anything but farming, football and faggot-tipping.

No one had five years ago, so why should now be any different?

No one had, except Mrs. Greene. That woman is the sole reason I find myself parked off on the shoulder and staring at that damn painted sign which reads ‘
Welcome to Alvarado!’
 …
Unless you’re gay… 
Okay, so that last part isn’t on there, but I’m sure it’s in the fine print somewhere.

A car-horn blares as gravel crunches, startling me so much I tap the gas pedal, sending my used, silver Civic lurching forward. What the fuck? I’m not blocking traffic…

Glancing up, I watch a red, beat-up pickup truck with oversized tires pulling alongside my car. Oh, this is wonderful. Not even inside the town limits yet, and I get the redneck welcoming party. Maybe if I don’t make eye contact- 
shit.
.. The guy’s rolled down his window and is looking at me expectantly. With a deep inhale and a small prayer, I lower my window.

“Afternoon, son,” the man’s Texas drawl is as heavy as the double-chin he’s sporting, but his smile is friendly and familiar. “You lost?”

“No, sir.” I do my best to return the smile, but I can feel my lips twitching with apprehension. Yeah, I know not 
everyone
 is a country-born asshole, but I’ve had a whole adolescence filled with bad memories to justify my caution. “Just taking a moment to get my bearings. Sorry if I’m in the way.”

“Not a problem…” The man’s voice trails off as one eye squints at me. “Wait a dang minute… Samuel Garrett, is that you?”

Fuck.
 “Yes, sir.”

“Well, shoot, boy! Ain’t seen you ’round these parts in… Gosh, five years now, I reckon? You headin’ up to your dad’s property?”

“No sir,” an exhale releases as my brain finally puts a name with the man’s face. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Matthews, but I haven’t spoken to my dad in a long time.”

“Oh, right.” The smile on David Matthews’s face falters. “He don’t rightly talk much ’bout it, though I reckon you may wanna take a drive out there. The property’s seen better days. ‘Course, not like it’s ever been quite the same since your momma passed.”

“
No sir, it hasn’t.”

Then, silence. I’m not exactly sure what else to say after that. David was a nice enough guy growing up, but after the big explosion, it was hard to tell who might hug you, or who might tie you to their bumper and drag you through town.

“Sam,” David starts then huffs out a heavy breath. “Look, son, about that night… Yer dad, he- Well, he’s a sour old goat sometimes, but folks have let it pass. Like water under a bridge, you know? It’s been five years. Maybe you oughtta go see him?”

“Maybe I ought to, but sometimes the water takes the bridge with it.”

“Amen to that,” David nods, goes quiet for a moment then slaps the outside of his truck door. “Well, it’s good to see you, anyhow. Bet some folks’ll be real glad you’re back.”

I have to bite back an argument to that and command my lips to smile instead. “Not staying long. I’m just here to visit Mrs. Greene for a few days.”

David’s hand flattens against the rusted metal. “What? Damn, son, I… I figured you already knew. Rosie done passed three nights ago. Her funeral’s tomorrow at Blessed Savior. Ain’t that why yer here?”

“
But,” 
it couldn’t be true
. “I talked to her on the phone last week.” The words come out slowly, salted and thick. “She sounded better. I told her I was coming. That’s why I came!”

“I’m sorry, Sam. The cancer finally won out, real sudden like. Cody’s been walkin’ ’round town in a daze, though I don’t reckon it’s really hit him yet. Shoot, you should go see that boy. He could use a friend right now.”

Friend?
 In what fucked up universe are Cody and me friends? Hell, that asshole is one of the reasons I left Alvarado in the first place! Mrs. Greene deserved better than to have some bigoted, ungrateful shit-stick for a son. “I came to see Mrs. Greene, but if she’s gone…” 
What the fuck am I doing here?

“Well, like I said, funeral’s tomorrow ’round ten at Blessed Savior. Why not stick around and pay your respects? You got a place to stay?”

Stay?
 What’s the point in staying? My mouth answers anyway. “No, sir. Was thinking of the Super Eight in Midlothian.”

“Oh? Well, Julie Anne Kent opened up a new bed n’ breakfast on Johnson Creek, called The Pleasant Peach. I’m sure she’d have a room available and would appreciate the business.”

“Julie?” For real? She was supposed to run outta town just as quick as I had.

“Yup, though she’ll be Julie Anne Moore by end of the summer!”

“Moore… As in 
Kyle
 Moore?” What the hell? Kyle had planned to never come back, too.

“You got it! He manages the Tom Thumb now and coaches tee-ball on weekends. Damn, son, you’ve got a lot ta’ catch up on! I know Rosie’d want you ta’ stick around fer a spell, at least say hi to everyone.”

Dammit
. He’s right. Sticking around for the funeral and paying my respects is the least I can do for Mrs. Greene. I owe that woman more than I could ever hope to pay back, and now it seems I’ll never even get the chance to try.

“Alright.” The word comes out slow. Don’t think my brain is quite done processing the idea I’ll be going to Mrs. Greene’s funeral tomorrow instead of taking her out to lunch like I’d planned. “Thanks, Mr. Matthews.”

“Aw, Dave’s fine. I’ll see you at the service tomorrow, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then maybe we could head out to yer dad’s for a bit?”

The visual of a less than wanted reunion pops into my head. It includes a cold stare, some choice words and the possibility of a flying beer bottle. Yeah, I think I’ll pass, thanks. “We’ll see.”

“A’ight. Oh, here.” He hands me a business card from the front pocket of a button up shirt that’s had the arms cut off and is now fraying around the shoulders. “My cell number’s on that. Call me if you get into any trouble, ya’hear?”

“Yes, sir.” I take the dirt-stained card, because not doing so would be rude. Guess he’s still doing work with my dad, because both their names are on the card. Dave Mathews and Daniel Garrett – D&D Handyman Services Ltd. I wonder if poor Dave is still doing most of the work while my dad drinks away his nights and sleeps all day.

“But, don’t go stayin’ outta trouble on my account,” he chuckles, his hand slapping against his door again. “See ya!” His diesel engine rumbles to carry him down the road as his big tires and oversized tailpipe leave behind a cloud.

After the gravel dust settles, I’m left alone to stare at the wooden welcome sign without a good reason for being here. The one good reason had been replaced in a heartbeat by a sad one. The reality of it leaves me breathless – the extreme difference just one week could make. One week between a warm, friendly voice on the phone and a deafening, irreparable silence.

What could five years have changed? It’s so hard to see past the thorn bushes in my memory and hope that perhaps Alvarado was different than I remembered. How fogged could the mind of a hurt, angst-filled teenager have been? Is finding out worth not making a u-turn?

Worth heading forwards instead of backwards?

A trilling vibration beeping from my hip brings those unsettling thoughts to a close. Not recognizing the number on my phone but recognizing the area-code, I have to wonder just how fast news of my arrival had spread. Dave always was a bit of a social-butterfly.

With a deep, calming breath, I swipe the screen to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hello,” an elderly male voice on the other end answers. “May I speak with Mr. Samuel J. Garrett, please?”

“Speaking,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. When the hell did telemarketers start outsourcing to retirement homes instead of overseas? Totally not in the mood to tell off some nice old guy for trying to sell me a cruise. God knows, my karma probably doesn’t need the negativity boost, either.

“Ah, wonderful,” the man’s voice warms into a more familiar tone. “You probably don’t remember me, Sam, but this is Mr. Eves from Eves and MacCarthy attorney’s office, uh, here in Alvarado? I handled your mother’s estate, but of course you were so young at the time, and your father-”

“I remember you, Mr. Eves.”
 Vaguely…