Boyfriend by the Hour

BOYFRIEND BY THE HOUR Firsts & Forever Stories Vol. 9 ALEXA LAND U.S. Copyright 2023 by Alexa Land. All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission in whole or in part of this publication is permitted without express written consent from the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is purely coincidental. This gay romance contains sexually explicit material. It is intended for ADULTS ONLY. Contents Acknowledgments 1. Timothy 2. Timothy 3. Aleksei 4. Timothy 5. Aleksei 6. Timothy 7. Aleksei 8. Timothy 9. Timothy 10. Aleksei 11. Timothy 12. Timothy 13. Timothy 14. Aleksei 15. Aleksei 16. Timothy 17. Timothy 18. Aleksei 19. Timothy 20. Aleksei 21. Timothy 22. Aleksei 23. Timothy Epilogue: Aleksei Acknowledgments Thank you Kim and Melisha for all you do, and thanks Valerie and Amy for the feedback along the way. It’s such appreciated. 1 Timothy This could only end badly. I knew that as soon as I saw the Godzilla-sized wave rolling in, but I made the terrible decision to go for it anyway. Quick glances to my left and right told me the other students in my beginning surfing class were hanging back. They probably cringed when I started paddling, because they all knew what was about to happen. I was committed now though, so I paddled with everything I had to try to stay in front of the wave. This all came down to timing. When I felt the swell begin to lift my board, I leapt to my feet, and my arms shot out automatically for balance. Suddenly, it was happening—I was hurtling forward, riding the wave, and it was glorious! As the wave crested overhead, I felt like such a bad-ass. I was shooting the curl, like a dude on the cover of a surfing magazine. Hell yeah! I, Timothy Pasternak, was a natural, a surfing legend in the making. The Hawaii 5-0 theme song started playing in my head. Two seconds later, about a billion gallons of water came crashing down on me. I drew a quick breath as the board shot out from under my feet and I hit the water. The wave spun me around like a sock in a washing machine. For a few seconds, I didn’t know which way was up or down. It felt surreal when I noticed a fish directly above (or below?) me, getting carried along by the same wave. He looked as startled as I felt, but to be fair, he probably always looked like that. Then I bobbed to the surface, sputtering and wheezing with the tang of salt water in my mouth. The next wave pushed me toward the shore, and I started swimming in that direction. Eventually, I dragged myself—and by default, the surfboard tethered to my ankle—onto the beach. As I sprawled out on the sand, I muttered, “Ow.” A minute later, my friend Romy jogged up to me. His surfboard was tucked under his arm, and he looked a lot less bedraggled than I probably did. I asked him, “Did you see me? I actually caught that monster wave.” “I did. Those two seconds were very impressive. Are you okay, though?” “Not entirely.” “What’s wrong?” As a former EMT, he was all set to launch into some sort of life-saving intervention. “I tweaked my back, but it’s nothing serious.” It ached as I got to my feet, and I ran my palms over my borrowed wetsuit and said, “You know what my biggest mistake was?” “Forgetting you’d only been surfing for two weeks?” “No, lying in the sand. I coated myself like a catfish filet on the way to the deep fryer.” I raised my sandy hands to show him, and Romy said, “I see your point. Come on, class is over, and we need to turn in our wetsuits.” Predictably, our instructor was less than enthusiastic about my accomplishment. He lectured me about ‘knowing my limits’ while Romy and I peeled off the wetsuits, and I pretended to be contrite. But as we headed to the parking lot, I told my friend, “I regret nothing.” “Even though you got banged up?” “It was totally worth it. That ride might have been short, but it was epic while it lasted.” He looked skeptical, so I added, “The whole reason we’ve been taking these classes, both the pole dancing ones and now surfing, is to push our limits and find out what we’re capable of. That’s what I was doing when I decided to go for it.” “Sure, but that doesn’t mean we should be reckless.” That was the thing about Romy—he’d spent most of his life as an extremely cautious person. Recently though, he’d quit a job that made him miserable, and he’d gotten engaged to a gorgeous man who happened to be a former criminal. I had mad respect for him, because he was finally stepping out of his comfort zone. But at his core, he was still inherently cautious. “It was a calculated risk,” I told him. “I may be new to surfing, but I’ve been snowboarding and skateboarding forever. It’s a similar skill set, so I thought maybe I could pull it off. Turns out no, but I owed it to myself to find out.” When we reached the SUV he’d borrowed from his brother, we had to spend a couple of minutes trying to fit the surfboards in the back. Instead of using the loaner boards provided by the instructor, I’d impulsively purchased a pair of secondhand boards before the class started. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I hadn’t factored in what a pain it would be to haul them around. Once we were finally on our way across town, Romy asked, “So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?” “I’m working tonight,