Disguises | EM Lynley

Race Wilcox

yanked open his trailer door, pulling his shirt

over his head as he navigated the three steps to his own
private sanctuary. He barely noticed as the door swung
closed and slammed shut the way it usually did. The
morning’s shoot had gone well, but the director had still
asked for an extra four takes of an action sequence. Race
was hot, tired, and ready for a cold beer; not that he ever

drank during work hours, but he really wanted a cold beer.

He tossed the sweaty shirt onto the bed, and as he

popped open his button-fly jeans, he noticed a bright orange
envelope propped up on the dining area table. His name was
written in large, graceful calligraphy, and just the sight of it
made him seriously reconsider his beer policy. He knew
exactly what it was, but he ripped open the envelope and
looked anyway, feeling his blood pressure rise. It was worse
than he’d expected, and he tossed the whole thing into the
trash can. If they didn’t have so many fucking rules around
the set, he’d have preferred to burn it so that he could watch
the flames darken and devour the paper. But that wasn’t an
option.

He groaned loudly, continued undressing, and then

hopped into the shower where the cool water washed away
sweat and stage makeup but not his bad mood. As he

Disguises | EM Lynley

soaped himself, he thought about his options. He was pretty
fucking annoyed, which ruined his usual shower jerk-off
session, thus adding to his fury.

When Race had first heard about it, he’d thought it had

to be some kind of a joke. He hadn’t believed it—or hadn’t
wanted to believe it. Now the orange envelope had arrived,
and he wasn’t any less annoyed, but he was starting to

believe it. It wasn’t just an invitation; it was a demand that
he attend a party. And not just any party… his network’s

Hallo-fucking-ween party. While he usually enjoyed parties,
the truth of the matter was costumes were not Race’s thing.
Despite the fact that he was an actor and technically wore a

costume every day at work, he hated having to dress up as
something, particularly when it wasn’t voluntary. He hadn’t
been cast in many genre productions, so almost all of the
characters he’d played—in film or on television—had worn
normal everyday clothes. It had been his acting that brought
them to life, not how he was dressed.

When he got out of the shower, he wrapped a towel

loosely around his hips and shuffled into the main area of
the trailer. He barely noticed the drops of water that
continued to cascade down his chest and back and drip off
his dark brown hair. He’d call his agent! Maybe she could get
him out of it, and he wouldn’t have to go after all. He speed-
dialed her on his cell phone and crossed his fingers as he
listened to the phone ring, willing her to pick it up already.
He was too angry to leave voicemail. He worked every day…
long, hard days, and his evenings off were supposed to be
his personal, private time. They had so few evenings off in
the first place that this really added insult to injury.

Disguises | EM Lynley

She picked up on the third ring, and he relayed his tale

of woe, but she was less than sympathetic.

“Considering the ratings aren’t good enough to ensure

automatic renewal for another season, it’s in your best
interests—and those of the show—to go to the damn party

and act like you’re having a good time. You are an actor,
right?” she teased, but he knew under her joking tone she
meant every word, and next time he needed a favor she
might not be very forthcoming. “It’s good for your image and
for your reputation with the studio execs. The fans love you,
but you need to suck up a little bit more to the guys who
sign the paychecks.”

“What the fuck do I pay you for?” He paced around and

the small trailer rocked slightly, its contents shaking noisily.
“Aren’t you supposed to take care of this kind of thing?
Arrange my jobs and keep me from having to do these
unbearable events. That’s not too much to ask considering
how much of my salary you get!”

“No dice,” she said in an increasingly impatient tone.

“It’s in your contract to do a reasonable number of publicity
events for the network, and this falls under that description.
A bunch of press people are on the guest list. If they want
you to be there, you had better be there.”

“It is not reasonable!“ He kicked the wall next to the bed

and heard something crash down in the bathroom, which

was on the other side. “They’re making me dress up, and
they want to approve our costumes in advance!” As soon as
the words left his mouth, Race realized he sounded like a
five-year-old complaining that someone else got the last red

Disguises | EM Lynley

gumdrop. He sat down on the bed with a thud and waited for
her response.

“Look, Race, when your name comes first in the credits

maybe you’ll have some leverage, but for now just suck it up
graciously, and don’t piss off any of the network people.
That’s definitely bad for your career.”

Race’s co-star Derrick Steele’s name came first in the

show’s opening credits, a fact which never failed to annoy
Race whenever they actually watched the broadcast
together. Derrick was easygoing and great fun, but they
could really trash talk each other into the ground. The crew
thought they were more like brothers than simply best
friends or co-stars. But they rarely caught the show on-air.
Usually they were so tired from the long days of shooting;
they were home sleeping at air time.

“You mean Derrick can get out of it?” Maybe there was

more to this name order thing than Race had originally
believed. Anger burned even brighter in his chest now.

Fucking Derrick!

“I didn’t say that. I said you can’t, so stop trying. Just

think of something you won’t mind dressing up as and have
some fun for a change. You’re too serious sometimes.”

“Oh, fuck off. And you’re fired,” he said—but with a

laugh—and hung up before she had a chance to reply.

“Did you get your invitation to the party?” Derrick came

bursting into the trailer while Race was zipping up his jeans,
not five minutes after he’d gotten off the phone with his
agent. Derrick always barged in without knocking and Race
was used to it. His co-star was also freshly showered and his

Disguises | EM Lynley

damp dirty-blond hair spiked up in all directions. The hair
stylists always found working on Derrick a challenge, but
Race’s neatly groomed dark-brown hair was a breeze for
them.

“Yeah, I got it, and it looks like I can’t get out of it. What

about you?”

“Get out of it?” Derrick looked confused. “Why would

you want to get out of it? It’s going to be an awesome party. I
love Halloween!”

Derrick was as animated as a kid off his Ritalin

sometimes, which tended to amuse or annoy Race. At the
moment it was the latter, and he nearly glared at his friend.

“Why are you so fucking excited?” Race pulled a clean

shirt out of the closet and slipped it on.

“Deciding what costume to wear is so much fun. Then

finding out what everyone else shows up as. You get a real
insight into people’s personalities by the costumes they
choose.”

There it was in a nutshell, the reason Race hated

costume parties. People always think there’s some hidden
meaning to what you’re dressed as. Race knew he was going
to be analyzed and judged by the studio, the network, and
the tabloids based on his choice of costume. Now he was
even more convinced it would be a terrible mistake to go to
the party. Derrick stared at him. He frowned and shook his
head as if he could read Race’s mind.

“Look, Race, I’ll help you pick out a costume. It’ll be

fun!” Derrick offered. He flashed his dimples and grinned in
an infectious way that Race always found impossible to

Disguises | EM Lynley

refuse. “We’ll have a great time, you’ll see!”

Derrick was so excited that some of his enthusiasm

rubbed off, and Race actually began to think going along
with him wouldn’t be so bad. Derrick was fun, and together
they always had a great time, no matter what they did. This
certainly wasn’t the first publicity event they’d been sent to,
and Derrick usually goofed around or did something dorky
for the cameras, which they ate up. It left Race looking like a
stick in the mud sometimes, but the fans seemed to love the
contrast between their two personalities.

“And Stella’s coming down for the party too!” Derrick

added as he rooted around in Race’s refrigerator for a bottle
of water. He chugged half of it in one swallow as he watched
Race finish dressing so that they could get back on set.

“Stella?” Race had no idea why the news suddenly

disappointed him so much. Stella Reynolds was Derrick’s
long-term girlfriend. She was also an actor, but her series
filmed in Vancouver, British Columbia; so she lived in
Canada most of the year. Due to their work schedules, they
maintained a long-distance relationship but always seemed
to have a hiatus or vacation at different times. She managed
to make it down to Los Angeles about once a month, and
usually the three of them got on great together. Race was
included in most of their plans when she visited.

She hadn’t been down to L.A. for more than a month

though, and Race and Derrick had been spending all their
time off together. Race had almost forgotten she existed
because Derrick hardly ever talked about her unless directly
asked. Of course Derrick would want Stella in town for the

Disguises | EM Lynley

party, but for some reason the party didn’t sound quite as
appealing to Race now, and he couldn’t quite put his finger
on why.

Ten

days later Race was only slightly less annoyed as he

prepared for the party. He’d gone over to Derrick’s apartment
to change, and the limo would pick them all up from there.
He was just putting the finishing touches on his appearance
with a little assistance from Stella.

Derrick probably had what would turn out to be one of

the best costumes at the party. Race was still fuming over

that too. And of course the network had loved his idea. It
wasn’t so easy for Race. Sure, Derrick offered to help him
come up with a costume. He even said Race could dress as
part of a group with him and Stella, but that certainly was
not going to happen. It just wouldn’t look right for the three
of them to dress up together; it was bound to start rumors,
and Race hated rumors even though the network loved the
publicity and the subsequent ratings boost they brought.

Treat us like fucking whores! Race thought bitterly. But

damn, he loved their show, and he desperately wanted it to
be renewed. Not just for his career, but because he truly had
never had a better gig and wanted it to last as long as
possible. He loved the show, the crew, the writers, and even
some of the producers. They had a small, vocal, and
extremely loyal fan base that had turned him and Derrick
into niche superstars. His role was fun and exciting, a
constant mix of comedy, drama, suspense, and fantasy. Who

Disguises | EM Lynley

wouldn’t want to be one of a pair of intergalactic detectives?
Especially since he didn’t have to wear a fucking spacesuit
or any sort of costume.

But Race knew the best part of his job was his co-star

and best friend, Derrick Steele. Practically since the day they
met, they had clicked and become fast friends—spending
almost every waking moment together on and off the set.
Before they were cast in the series, they had both been on
shows filmed up in Vancouver, and neither of them had
many friends in L.A. at first. Given their grueling shooting
schedule, they rarely had enough energy even on their off
days to socialize and ended up spending most of their time
together. The studio and producers were grateful their stars
didn’t get caught up in the Hollywood party scene. But the
network constantly encouraged them to get out and play
more in order to get into the news more often. Was it any
wonder that Race hated the network publicity team and
fought them at every move?

Stella and Derrick were going to the party as Cleopatra

and Marc Antony. They suggested Race dress as Julius
Caesar and go along with them if he wanted. No fucking way
was he going to wear a little Roman general skirt thing with
lace-up sandals like Derrick planned, and he certainly
wasn’t going to parade around in public in a bed sheet and
call it a toga either. That was not the kind of character he
wanted to be. Besides, he was a little uncomfortable with the
whole sexual rivalry thing it would imply if he went along
with that suggestion. The three of them were good friends,
and Stella and Derrick included him in their plans during
Stella’s L.A. weekends on a regular basis. But that was as far

Disguises | EM Lynley

as it went. Race knew the paparazzi could twist their
Halloween costumes into some sordid threesome and splash
that in all the tabloids without thinking twice. The network
might love it, but Race was careful about his image; he didn’t
need bullshit like that to destroy a decade of hard work and
good behavior. Not to mention how it might look to his family
who lived in a perennial red state in the Bible belt.

Forget Julius Caesar. Race planned to dress as one of

his favorite movie characters, though he’d had a hard time at
first convincing the network jerkwads that it even was a
costume.

He was going as Indiana Jones.

Of course it was a costume: there was the trademark

Fedora and the whip. It wasn’t just any hat and whip, after
all. And so what if he was wearing one of the battered brown
leather jackets from wardrobe? It might not be the exact
style that Harrison Ford wore, but it was the right color and
beat up just the right amount. He also had a little army bag
like Indy wore and a gun from Props.

Race absolutely loved the hat, which had set him back a

pretty penny. It totally made him into Indy. He’d been
wearing it around practically nonstop since he’d gotten it.
Well, at least around his apartment and in his trailer on set.
He’d even tried cracking the whip—twice. The first time he
broke a lamp in his apartment, and the second time he’d
managed to hit himself—on the shoulder. It sure wasn’t as
easy to crack as it looked. He’d just keep it strapped onto his
belt for everyone’s safety.

“Hey, Rick, what do Roman generals wear under those

Disguises | EM Lynley

little skirt things?” Race teased Derrick when he’d first seen
the costume laid out on the bed.

“It’s a tunic, not a skirt,” Derrick corrected him with his

character’s almost trademark sneer. “It’s more like a
dress….” He wrinkled his nose and frowned at the
admission, and Race couldn’t help but laugh. “Anyway, it’s
not like it’s a kilt, so I’m just going to wear boxer-briefs, like I
normally do.” Derrick shrugged.

“I don’t actually think the Romans wore underwear, but

if it were me, I’d go commando. Just need to be careful not
to twirl around too much.” Race burst into uncontrollable

laughter at the idea of Derrick in a skirt—tunic—and then at
the idea of Derrick flashing the network and press people.

Now that would be worth going to the fucking party, just to
see the looks on their faces.

Of course, Stella looked stunning. She always did. She

wore a sleek black wig entwined with a gold snake
headdress, and a white gauzy dress that was tight and clingy

in all the right places. On Stella, that’s pretty much all over,
Race thought as he eyed her abundant cleavage. The dress
was low-cut enough to provide an excellent view of that.
She’d also done an amazing job with her make-up. Dark kohl
surrounded her eyes in Cleopatra’s trademark style, and
there were flecks of gold in her eye shadow and dusted along
her shoulders and décolleté. She definitely looked the part,
though the spell was broken as soon as she opened her
mouth.

“Race, y’all need to do something with that hair.” Stella

had grown up in Tennessee, and when she wasn’t working,

Disguises | EM Lynley

her soft Southern accent was so thick you’d need a chainsaw
to cut it. Not quite what anyone would expect from
Cleopatra, who wasn’t even from southern Egypt. Stella
stepped back a pace, cocked a hip, and scrutinized Race’s
appearance.

“What’s the point? I’m gonna be wearing the hat the

whole time.” He slapped her hand away as she reached up to

arrange his hair. Derrick was the one that needed remedial
hair attention; his hair always looked as if a family of crows
had just made a home on top of his head. Along with his
famous sneer, Rick’s character was best-known for his
slightly bleached, dark-blond, and far-too-long hair.

“You might want to take the hat off at some point. Let

me put in some gel; that’ll minimize the hat-head issue. Now
come over here.” She boosted herself onto the counter in
Derrick’s bathroom and pulled Race toward her by one lapel
of his jacket until he stood in between her knees so she
could get at his hair. He was uncomfortably close to her
now. In the mirror, he could see Derrick standing near the
bed where his costume was still laid out. To Race it seemed
he was having second thoughts about the whole bare-legged
Roman general thing.

Derrick stripped down to his briefs—bright green with

red and blue flowers—and Race marveled again at how
ripped the guy was: perfectly shaped pecs, chiseled abs, and
enormous biceps. The writers tried to get Derrick’s shirt off
as often as possible on screen. Race worked out too, with
Derrick’s help, but he never managed to achieve anywhere
near the result. He looked great without a shirt unless he
was standing next to Derrick.

Disguises | EM Lynley

Race continued watching Derrick’s reflection as he

turned his back to the bathroom, his back muscles rippling
and cording. Race let out a sigh. Derrick reached to pick up

the dress—well, he called it a tunic, but it was still a fucking
dress, if anyone asked Race. Derrick hesitated and then
quickly slipped out of his shorts. Race muffled a snort as he
saw Derrick’s bare ass for a moment before his friend pulled
the tunic over his head and started fussing with the rest of
the costume.

Whew, it’s getting hot in here, Race thought, and he

could feel himself starting to get hard as Stella gripped his
waist even more tightly with her knees and messed with his

hair. She was too close and she smelled really good. Stop

smelling her! She was so off limits it wasn’t even funny. At
least Race hoped it was Stella’s proximity that had turned
him on and not the sight of Derrick stripping—or the
thought of how he looked under the tunic. Stella laughed in
Race’s face, and he got a whiff of the fruity-girly cocktail
she’d been drinking, and it snapped him out of his own
dangerous thoughts. Stella was already pretty buzzed. She
didn’t have much tolerance for alcohol, and Derrick was not
going to be thrilled if she was drunk before they even got to
the party. Race regretted letting her talk him into mixing her
a second drink.

“All done,” she finally said and gave him a little kiss,

just pressing her lips against his. “You look perfect now,
Race! Oh, look I got lipstick on your pretty mouth.” She
laughed again. In the mirror, Race could see Derrick was still
dressing and apparently not paying any attention to what
was going on in the bathroom.

Disguises | EM Lynley

“Just clean it off, okay?” Race didn’t want Derrick to see

him with Stella’s lipstick on his mouth. He hadn’t kissed her
back, but he’d thought about it.

“’Kay, close your eyes while I clean it up,” she giggled.

He closed his eyes and felt her rubbing his lips. “All done!”

But when he opened his eyes, he realized she’d put more
lipstick on! “Oh, pretty,” she said and started to kiss him
again while he tried to push her off.

“Stella!” Derrick was suddenly right behind Race in the

doorway to the bathroom. Shit, he probably thinks we’re

making out in here, Race thought with alarm. How the fuck
could he explain this? “Stel, just stop fucking around, and

get that lipstick off of Race. And please stop drinking, okay?”
Derrick raised his voice nearly to a shout, which was
practically unknown in Race’s experience. Usually Derrick
was easygoing and laughed everything off, but not tonight.
He wasn’t sure which one of them Derrick was more
annoyed with, and he didn’t want to find out. Stella pouted
as she cleaned off the lipstick and stuck her tongue out at
Derrick’s retreating back. At least there was plenty of
makeup remover available, and thankfully the lipstick didn’t
leave a stain on Race’s lips. That would have totally ruined
the image of Indiana Jones he wanted to project.

“Oh, Rick, you’re no fun tonight!” Stella sounded more

like a child than the Queen of the Nile. Race had never seen
her in this mood—or Derrick, for that matter—and the
evening hadn’t even started yet. He wondered if he could still
get out of the party. “Oh, baby! You look so good!” Stella said
as Derrick finished putting on his costume, her mood

Disguises | EM Lynley

quickly swung back to light, bubbly, and half-baked.

Derrick did look good, even Race had to admit. The

tunic was a bit short, coming to just above his knees, and
showed off his pale, golden-haired, and very muscular calves
perfectly—if you happened to be into that sort of thing. The
fabric was covered with gold embroidery and fake jewels,
which looked fairly realistic and very regal. A long gold-edged
cape draped over his shoulders. He carried the helmet,
which was also jeweled and sported a feathered plume down
the back. With that helmet on, Derrick would be about eight
feet tall, and Race could certainly understand why so many
nations had surrendered to the Roman armies. Hell, even
Race was ready to.

He was impressed Derrick could pull off the dress thing

so well. It was all in the legs. The long hours Derrick spent
in the gym paid off, and he could display his legs for a
change. Race, on the other hand, absolutely hated showing
off his legs. He’d never quite recovered from an episode on a
previous series where he’d been forced to wear shorts.

Derrick’s cell phone rang and he clasped it to his ear,

spoiling the near-perfect image of the regal Roman general.
The network car was downstairs ready to take them to the
party—like the proverbial carriage—and they gathered up
their belongings and headed out.

The

party itself wasn’t so bad once they got inside. Of

course they had to pose for a shitload of photographs
outside, freezing their asses off in the unseasonably late

Disguises | EM Lynley

October L.A. chill. Race struck a series of action poses for
the cameras, hoping he looked more like Indiana Jones than

he felt. Indy would never stand around modeling like this! He
wanted to crack the whip at those stupid photographers, but
he was afraid he’d hurt himself again, not to mention the
fuss the network would make if he actually hit anyone else.
His agent’s words about appeasing the suits and how it
would help his career came back to him. He widened his
smile and prepared to suck it up, vowing to look more
carefully at the fine print next time he signed a contract.

Inside, nearly everyone either wanted to wear his hat or

play with the whip, and Race wasn’t exactly thrilled with all
the attention. He was still peeved that he was forced to be
here and wasn’t in a party mood despite the cocktails at
Derrick’s. Second to costumes, dancing was high on his list
of things that made a prostate exam sound thrilling. He’d
hoped to blend in or hide in the shadows and not have to
speak to the other guests, except for his friends.

That plan failed, and he ended up letting Stella convince

him to join in a few dances with her and Derrick, but as
soon as he could, he escaped to the bar, standing there
drinking beer and glancing at his watch every five minutes.
How long did they have to stay before they could safely leave
without being reprimanded by “The Powers that Be” at their
network?

Glancing around the room, Race was angered to

discover Derrick didn’t look to be in any hurry to escape.
Even more so than Race, his costume had caused quite a
stir—especially among the female partygoers who loudly
admired Derrick’s muscular legs and daring short tunic. A

Disguises | EM Lynley

few were so bold as to attempt to lift his skirt—tunic—and
Derrick laughed. He was all dimpled smiles, even as he
slapped their hands away. Race chuckled with the
knowledge that Derrick would be mighty embarrassed if
anyone did manage a look up there and felt a slight pang of
guilt that he’d convinced his friend to go commando, but
Derrick was a big boy and could take care of himself.

Finally Derrick managed to break away from his group

of admirers and join Race at the bar. He had the helmet on
now, and Race felt like a midget next to him despite being
more than six feet tall himself. He had to admit, Derrick sure
did make a fantastic Marc Antony.

“Ready to go yet, Rick?” Race didn’t try to hide his

impatience from his best friend.

“You’re kidding, right?” Derrick pointed at Race’s beer

when the bartender came over and held up two fingers. “This
is a great party! We’re having a blast and it’s still early. We
can’t possibly leave yet.” He took a swig of the beer the
bartender placed near his elbow. “They gave us a late call
tomorrow, so what’s the hurry?”

“Where’s Stella?” Race sipped at the fresh beer Derrick

handed him and greeted everyone who walked by with a fake

smile and a nod. He acted like he was having fun, just as his
agent suggested.

“Dunno. She disappeared. I hope she’s not puking in

the ladies’ room.”

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t have made that last drink for

her.” Race glanced down guiltily at his shoes as he
apologized, and Derrick just shrugged. “There she is—

Disguises | EM Lynley

dancing with Catwoman. Is that Caitlin Kassidy? Damn, she
makes one helluva Catwoman.”

“That she does,” Derrick said with an edge to his tone

that surprised Race. He started to walk toward his girlfriend,
leaving Race standing at the bar on his own. He watched
Derrick go up to Stella, who was slow-dancing, cheek-to-
cheek with her arms wrapped around Caitlin. She pulled

him into the dance. Lucky bastard, Race thought as Derrick
danced with both women. He remembered some of the other
things Caitlin was good at. A few years earlier, they’d been
on the same series up in Vancouver, when Race had been
cast as her love interest for half a season. They’d spent quite
a bit of time together off-set, working at building some

chemistry between their characters. Might check and see if

there’s still any chemistry with Catwoman later on. He smiled
and took another long pull at his beer, imagining the
possibilities.

Race finished his beer as he watched the rest of the

guests dance and mingle. He was polite to the network and
studio suits who came up to schmooze; his agent would have
given him a gold star for his behavior. He even danced with
one female executive, until she started getting a bit too
friendly and grabbed his ass. He extricated himself politely
and found sanctuary at the bar. He caught up with a few
more actors he’d worked with in the past: either guest stars
on his show or fellow guests on episodes of other shows.
Sooner or later it seemed the same set of actors made the
rounds of the network, ending up on every show; so Race
was bound to run into the same faces year after year.

Disguises | EM Lynley

He ran into a couple of his closer friends, Tim and

Baxter, whom he’d known for years. One was dressed as a
vampire, which complemented his dark hair and fair skin.
The other dressed as a pirate… a bit like Johnny Depp’s
Captain Jack, but with a lot less guyliner. They chatted for a
while until Race noticed Derrick across the room trying to
get his attention. Finally, Derrick looked like he was ready to
call it a night, and Race’s spirits rose.

“Race, we’re gonna leave now,” Derrick told him.

Catwoman and Cleopatra were still tightly wrapped around
him, both giggling.

“Huh?” Race wanted to be sure he was getting this right.

“The three of you? Got room for me?” he asked half-
seriously.

Derrick threw him a cryptic glance, which surprised

Race. Dude’s leaving with two hot chicks, so why doesn’t he

look happier? And why didn’t he invite Race along?

“Well, uh….” Derrick stopped. Tongue-tied Derrick was

someone Race had never met before. Not too surprising since
Race had practically just asked to come along and fuck his
girlfriend. “We’re taking the car that brought us. You okay to
find your own way home?”

“Yeah, sure.” Race waved a hand nonchalantly, but he

was pissed as hell, and it had nothing to do with the car.
“Plenty of other cars or cabs.” Race smiled and nodded as
the three of them started to walk away. “Have fun!” he added
unnecessarily.

Well, fuck. Not only had Race stuck around waiting for

Derrick to leave, but there went his chance with Catwoman.

Disguises | EM Lynley

That was two strikes for the evening. He hadn’t seriously
expected to hook up with anyone here, but now he was
determined not to leave alone. He couldn’t let that happen
after Derrick left with the two best-looking women at the
party. Race looked around. Could he find two or even three?
He couldn’t let Derrick beat him. It was a simple matter of
self-respect. Race still couldn’t quite believe Derrick, who

never, ever looked at other women when the guys all went
out. None of his other friends there tonight would ever let
Race live it down once they found out. He knew he shouldn’t
have come to this fucking party after all.

After a few minutes of feeling sorry for himself he

formulated a plan. Thank God that grabby network woman

was gone! He’d hate to have to rebuff her advances then
leave with someone else. That would totally fuck up his
career. He spotted a likely candidate for seduction: Eliza
Hall. Tall, leggy, and nearly as gorgeous as Caitlin, she
looked particularly delectable in the mermaid costume she

was wearing. Well, if you could call it wearing, since there

really wasn’t much of it. Yahtzee! That should be no trouble
at all; actually it was almost too easy, but she was definitely
the hottest woman at the party now. He knew that when he
danced with her—and yes, he let her talk him into dancing,
or think she’d talked him into it—that they were the best
looking couple there. No one was really surprised when they
left together shortly afterward.

A piercing

shriek woke Race up the next morning, and he

Disguises | EM Lynley

threw his alarm clock across the room, knocking over

another lamp. Fuck! At this rate, he’d have to go lamp
shopping soon, but at least the alarm stopped screeching.
He was alone, head pounding slightly, and his body ached in
places he barely knew he had. He had a hazy recollection of
what had happened after he’d left the party with Eliza, but
he had a sinking feeling he didn’t want it to get any clearer.
They’d come back to his place, and all he could remember
was that Eliza had worn the Fedora the entire time—and the
leather jacket for a good part of it too. He didn’t even want to
think about the whip; he wasn’t ready for that just yet. He
might never be ready to think about it.

He dragged himself into the shower, and miraculously

he managed to get ready and be waiting downstairs when
the studio car came to pick him up. Derrick was sitting
inside and held out a very large cup of coffee to him once

he’d gotten seated and buckled up. Coffffeeee, he thought,
reminding himself of the way the Cookie Monster might say
“cookies!” He sipped silently, feeling the caffeine reinvigorate
him almost as soon as it hit his bloodstream. He glanced
over at Derrick. The same old Derrick-morning-face, smiling
and eager, like he couldn’t wait to get on set and pout his
little heart out at Race all morning. You couldn’t tell by
looking at him what he’d gotten up to the night before, and
Derrick didn’t volunteer any information. Race was dying to
know what had happened with Stella and Caitlin, but he
knew asking outright would cross a line. Derrick was
business-as-usual and wanted to run lines while they drove

to work. Unbelievable!

It turned out to be a good thing they did, because Race

Disguises | EM Lynley

needed the practice. The late night with Eliza, and at least
one too many beers, had really caught up with him. The
morning’s shoot went horribly, and the director was less
than impressed with their progress. They’d had to do so
many takes that Derrick was practically finishing Race’s
half-forgotten sentences, which was not at all what the
director wanted. Race struggled to concentrate on his work.

How did Derrick manage to look so relaxed and fucking

well-rested after the night he must have had? It just wasn’t

fair. And he hadn’t flubbed his lines—well, no more than
usual—but not like Race, who was definitely off his game
this morning, and everyone on set knew it. It only got worse
as the day wore on. He felt like crap; crap that had been run
over by a steamroller and then thrown over a cliff. Wile E.
Coyote on his worst day looked better than Race felt. Eliza
had folded, spindled, and mutilated him; and it took all of
his acting ability to keep anyone else from knowing it. At
least he hoped he’d been able to keep it a secret. He was
pretty sure he hadn’t managed to hide much from Derrick.
He’d been shooting Race pointed looks—glares, really—all
morning. Finally, the director called a break while the crew
set up cameras and lights for the next set of shots.

“Race, you okay? You’re moving like you got hurt or

something. We haven’t even done any stunts this morning.”
Derrick caught up with Race as he started to walk toward
his trailer, the first moment they’d been alone together since
they got out of the SUV. His voice was concerned, not
annoyed.

“Yeah, well, I kind of had a rough night last night—after

the party.”

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“Really?” Derrick asked with a somewhat pained

expression that Race couldn’t quite identify. Why did Derrick
care what Race did after the party? “What did you get up to?
Go out for an after party with Tim the vampire and Baxter
the pirate?”

“Uh, no, I left with Eliza Hall, and let’s just say she

really went to town with Indy’s whip,” Race said half
laughing and half grimacing. He turned around and raised
his shirttail up enough so Derrick could see one of the
painful welts on Race’s back.

“Ow!” Derrick said sympathetically. “Still hurts, huh?”

Race nodded. “I know what might work on this. I have some
aloe vera gel in my trailer. It works on burns and stings, so it
might work for this.”

“Okay, thanks. It’s not like I can go to the set nurse on

this one,” Race said gratefully as they walked to Derrick’s
trailer.

“Why not? You really can’t tell it’s from a whip.” Derrick

was attempting to hide the smile that fought to break out
and was losing the battle. Race really couldn’t blame him.
Had it been anyone else, this would have been fucking
hilarious.

“Well, y’see,” Race added sheepishly as they climbed the

steps into the trailer, “it’s not the only one.”

“Ah.” Derrick closed and locked the trailer door behind

them. He went into the bathroom and came back with a
clear tube of the gel.

“See?” Race pulled his shirt off and displayed his

wounds to Derrick. There were several more welts on his

Disguises | EM Lynley

chest and back.

“Jesus fuck!” Derrick exclaimed, though there was no

trace of humor in his tone. Now he seemed to be genuinely
sorry for Race. “Let me do this for you, probably can’t even
reach some of these on your back, can you?”

“There are a couple on my legs too,” Race admitted. He

thought for about the ten-thousandth time how glad he was
that he had a close friend like Derrick, who wouldn’t
immediately make him feel like a complete asshat. He could
just imagine what Tim or Baxter would say if they found out
what had happened.

“Take your pants off and lie face down on the bed; I’ll

put this stuff on all of them for you.” Derrick waited while
Race pulled his boots and jeans off and lay down, and then
he sat at the edge of the bed and squeezed some of the clear
gel into his hand. He dabbed a bit of it at a mark on Race’s
shoulder, clearly not wanting to hurt him. “How’s that? Too
much pressure? Let me know if I’m hurting you.” Race just
shook his head, and Derrick continued dabbing. “Feeling any
better?”

“Yeah, it does. It’s nice and cool. Thanks.” Race let out a

strangled sigh.

“Now I can see why you couldn’t act your way out of a

paper bag this morning.”

“That bad?” Race really was embarrassed. He prided

himself on being professional and competent. He hated
turning in a bad performance, especially in front of the crew.
It made him feel like he was wasting everyone’s time if he
didn’t nail it on nearly every take.

Disguises | EM Lynley

“Worse. When the director sees the dailies, we’ll

probably have to re-shoot some of the scenes.”

“Thanks, I really feel better now. I don’t know what I’d

do without a friend like you.” Race’s tone oozed sarcasm.

“Race, I don’t understand. Why didn’t you stop Eliza if it

hurt? I mean, unless you like that kind of pain. Even if you
do, there are limits. But I get the feeling you’re not into that
sort of kink.”

“I couldn’t really stop her, because she had my arms

tied up.” Race felt like an idiot. “And I’ve discovered that I

don’t like this kind of thing. I thought it would be fun, but it
really wasn’t.”

“Well, it can be fun if you’re with someone who you can

trust to stop when you want them to. You need to set some
rules before you start, otherwise, that kind of game is just
dangerous.”

Race wondered how much experience Derrick had with

that kind of game but refrained from asking. Derrick shared
next to nothing about his sex life with Stella, and Race
respected his decision on that.

“I sure hope this was the best fuck of your life.”

“Not even close. It was possibly one of the worst.” Race

wasn’t even talking about the whipping. The whole thing had
been so unsatisfying even though he had come several

times. Just getting off isn’t enough anymore, he thought. He
wasn’t sure why he’d expected any more than that with
Eliza; because when he’d decided to leave with her, his main
goal had been mindless casual sex. He wished he’d just gone

Disguises | EM Lynley

home alone and jerked off, but something about Derrick

leaving with Stella and Caitlin had made him feel compelled
to compete. Why had he been so annoyed at Derrick? It
didn’t feel like simple jealousy that his best friend had left
with two women. There was something else there, at the
edge of his consciousness and emotion, but he couldn’t put
his finger on it.

Race relaxed a little as Derrick gently rubbed the

soothing gel into the wounds on his back. His touch was so
light and delicate for someone with huge paws for hands.
Derrick was obviously doing his best to make Race feel
better, and it was working.

“Race, have you considered just trying to find someone

for

relationship,

rather

than

these

unfortunate

encounters?”

“Well, yeah, of course I have. But for now, I’m on the set

with you nearly every waking hour. I hardly seem to get any
time off except to sleep, so it’s been a bit difficult to find my
soul mate. As you can see, I’m not even all that successful at
finding a fuck mate.”

“Okay, that’s fair, I suppose. You’ll just have to try

harder on hiatus. For the soul mate, I mean.” Derrick
managed to say this in a way that was friendly and
supportive, not preachy. Coming from anyone else Race
would have been annoyed at being told how to live his life.

“I’d have to be really lucky to find someone as perfect for

me as you and Stella are together.”

“Yeah, lucky,” Derrick replied unenthusiastically, and

Race craned his head to see his friend had a thoughtful,

Disguises | EM Lynley

ironic expression.

“So… that reminds me, how about your night?” Race

was glad to drop the subject of his love life. He decided it
was okay to ask since Derrick hadn’t just left with Stella.
Now it was fair game, especially since Race had ’fessed up
about what he’d gotten up to with Eliza.

“Huh?” Derrick seemed surprised by the question—

even by Race’s voice—and pulled his hand off Race’s back
suddenly.

“You left with two girls, and you aren’t going to at least

tell me something?” Race was disappointed and slightly
annoyed that his friend wouldn’t share at least a tiny morsel
with him.

“Well, it was, you know, what you’d expect,” Derrick

said absently, obviously uncomfortable with Race’s curiosity.

Okay, strange answer, Race thought. He dropped it,

concentrating instead on what Derrick’s hands were doing
on his back. He’d finished putting gel on the welts on Race’s
back, and he was working on a spot on Race’s left thigh.

Mmmm. Race stopped himself just in time from moaning

out loud, but Derrick really did know how to make
everything feel better. Derrick trailed his fingers up Race’s

thigh from one mark to another and suddenly, it felt too
damn good. Race could feel his cock hardening, and he knew
he’d be supremely embarrassed if Derrick found out. Not
just because of his hard-on, but how could he explain that

he liked this so much he didn’t want Derrick to stop

touching him? Shit, how am I going to get up? I wish I could

pretend to fall asleep….

Disguises | EM Lynley

“There, that’s all of them.” Derrick stopped his gentle

rubbing, but his huge hand was still on Race’s upper thigh.
Unbidden, Race had a fleeting image of that enormous hand
wrapped around his cock. “Feel any better, Race?”

“Yeah, a lot better, thanks,” Race said in a strangled

voice and into the pillow, trying desperately to get the image
of Derrick stroking his cock out of his head. The hard-on
gave no sign of subsiding, much to Race’s mortification.

“Any more? You know, while I’ve got the stuff all over

my hands,” Derrick offered.

“Uh, yeah,” Race said with some embarrassment, lifting

his hips and awkwardly slipping his boxer-briefs down
slightly to expose the two welts on his ass—one on each
cheek.

“Race, you are lucky I’m such a good friend.” Derrick

applied aloe vera to Race’s ass, clearly trying not to laugh
and failing miserably. In fact, Race was glad Derrick laughed
at him because, thankfully, it made him lose his hard-on.

“Yeah, I am.” Race pulled his shorts back up over his

ass and rolled over onto his back. “Lucky.”

“Ow.” Derrick had clearly gotten a good look at Race’s

chest. The nipples were red and raw, and there were teeth
marks on Race’s chest and shoulders. Derrick reached out
and dabbed some gel onto one nipple, and then the other,
practically without thinking. Or so it seemed to Race, who
just lay back and let Derrick continue with his ministrations.
It was an indication of how close their friendship was that
neither of them thought that there was anything strange
about this. Race’s nipples were sensitive; he usually loved

Disguises | EM Lynley

having them touched, but Eliza had practically chewed them
off. Derrick’s touch was so tender as he smoothed the aloe
vera onto Race’s nipples, circling around each one with just

the right amount of pressure and hopefully not noticing that
Race’s cock began to stir again.

Oh fuck! Race willed his body to obey and not betray

him.

“Derrick?!” A shout and a sharp knock at the door

captured their attention, and Derrick turned toward the
noise. It was Kevin, one of the producers, and Race
welcomed the intrusion that finally broke the spell Derrick’s
fingers had on him and his cock.

Derrick got up and went over to the door, while Race

grabbed for his shirt. He didn’t want Kevin to see him
practically naked on Derrick’s bed even if there was a good
reason. Certainly, the hard-on would be a little difficult to
explain. Opening the door a crack, Derrick spoke quietly to
Kevin, and Race could just make out the conversation.

“Rick, Caitlin didn’t report to the set this morning and

you seem to be the last one to, uh, see her….” Kevin spoke
with barely suppressed curiosity and envy. “Sorry to have to
ask you, but….”

“Yeah, I’m not really sure where she is. I didn’t see her

after, uh,” Derrick replied. “Let me make a call and let you
know if I can find out anything.”

“Okay, thanks. And we’ll be ready for you guys in about

ten.” Kevin had clearly tried to keep the conversation private,
speaking quietly. Derrick closed the door and turned back
toward the bed where Race sat, now fully clothed.

Disguises | EM Lynley

Derrick grabbed his cell phone out of his jacket pocket

and punched in a few numbers. Race got up to go, but
Derrick motioned for him to stay as the call connected.

“Stel, are you with Caitlin?” Derrick sounded annoyed,

and he paced around the confines of the trailer as he spoke.
Race couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but
Derrick appeared even angrier than he had the night before
over the lipstick incident. Race felt an overwhelming concern
for his friend well up in his chest. Whatever Derrick was
going through, Race wanted to help him, was ready to
support him; just as Derrick had taken care of Race’s
injuries. It didn’t matter that he’d been entirely to blame in
that regard.

“Okay, well, they’re waiting for her on set. You know we

had an agreement….” Derrick raised his voice again, and
Race wondered what was going on. In the three years they’d
known each other, he’d definitely never heard Derrick like
this. “We’ll talk about that later, just make sure Caitlin—”

Stella must have hung up because Derrick didn’t say

anything else. He just snapped the phone shut and slammed
it down on the dining room table so hard that a piece flew off
and landed with a clatter on the tiled kitchen floor. Race
knew how serious the situation had become, because

Derrick just didn’t do angry unless you said something
about his family. As curious as he was about what was going
on, Race got up to go—for real this time.

“Hey, Race. You’ll need some more of that stuff later

on.” Derrick seemed to remember Race was still there, and
his voice softened as he spoke.

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“Yeah, I’ll have the car pass by a pharmacy on the way

home.”

“Nah, you can’t reach most of those spots. I’ll come over

later and put some on for you, okay?”

“You don’t need to. You’ve got Stella staying and—”

“Yeah, I need to sort that out first. I’ll swing by your

place around eight o’clock, okay? I’ll definitely need a beer,
or three, later on too.”

“Plenty of beer in the fridge.” Race wrinkled his brow

and wondered what Derrick was going to sort out. Maybe
he’d be ready to talk about it later on. For now, their break
was just about over, and they were expected back on set in
about five minutes. As much as Race wanted to help his
friend deal with whatever had gotten him so riled up, there
just wasn’t time to get into it, and Derrick didn’t seem ready
to discuss it just yet.

“It’s a date then,” Derrick agreed with a smile. “Let’s get

back to work. I hope we don’t go late tonight.”

The afternoon’s shooting went well thanks, at least in

part, to Derrick’s gel and Race getting somewhat of a break
to rest and clear his head. They were back on schedule and
finished for the day around six p.m., mainly because they’d
run out of light.

Neither of them needed to shower off any extra makeup

or blood, so they just got into the studio car and headed
home.

“See you around eight, then?” Derrick asked when the

car stopped outside Race’s apartment, and he hopped out.

Disguises | EM Lynley

“Yeah, later, dude.”

It was closer to eight-thirty when Derrick knocked at

Race’s door. Race had showered and put on a loose shirt and
some sweatpants and was lounging around on the couch,
flicking through basketball games on the television, when
Derrick arrived. And it wasn’t a moment too soon either, as
the welts were starting to hurt again. Race really needed

Derrick to put more gel on for him. It was the gel, he
reminded himself, thinking of how Derrick’s hands had felt
on his body.

“Hey,” Race said as he opened the door to Derrick.

Derrick came in and plopped himself on the couch

without saying anything. They were close enough friends
that Race didn’t find that rude, and he silently handed
Derrick a cold bottle of beer. Race knew Derrick would start
talking when he was ready. For the moment, Derrick stared
blankly at the game on the television, and Race sat down
next to him.

“Let me just finish this, and then I’ll put some gel on

your wounds,” Derrick said after he’d taken a few sips from
the bottle. “Are they starting to hurt yet?”

“Yeah, they are. I appreciate this, but you really didn’t

need to come all the way over here just for that.”

“Yes, I did.” Derrick took a long swig and finished the

rest of the bottle. He’d sucked the whole beer down in about
four minutes, which had to be a record. Something was
seriously bothering him; Race was certain of that. “Okay,
let’s get you fixed up. Bedroom?”

“Sure.”

Disguises | EM Lynley

Derrick followed Race into the bedroom and looked

around as Race took off his shirt and sweatpants. Race saw
him staring at the broken lamp, though Derrick didn’t say
anything about it.

“I gotta clean that up. Threw the alarm clock at it this

morning.” Race laughed at himself as he lay face down on
the bed.

“You really hate waking up, don’t you?” Derrick asked,

not quite laughing. “I thought it was just another casualty of
Eliza and the whip.”

“No, I was the only victim. As for the calls, of course I

hate them, especially the morning after I’m forced to go to
some stupid netw—”

“Yeah, I think I agree with you on that. Now.” He started

to rub some of the gel onto Race’s back.

“That sounded ominous. What do you mean ‘now’?”

“You didn’t hear about it yet?”

“Hear what? Rick, what happened?” Race pushed

himself up on his elbows and craned his neck to look at his
friend.

“About Stella.” Derrick’s voice was flat and emotionless.

He took his hand off of Race for moment.

“Stella? Is she okay?” Derrick’s tone scared him, and

Race was really worried now. “You know, I’m sorry about the
drinking and the lipstick thing. You didn’t get into a fight
over that, did you?”

“It isn’t your fault. And I know she has a thing about

lipstick.”

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“A thing? You mean she asks you to wear lipstick?”

Derrick’s comment was so odd, Race just had to ask.

“No.” Derrick laughed as if that were the most ridiculous

thing he’d ever heard, but there was little humor in the
sound. “She likes lipstick.” He returned to the task of
applying gel, gently massaging it into Race’s raw, red flesh.
The feeling of Derrick’s fingers seemed at odds with the tone
of his voice as he continued—clearly upset with Stella—but
none of that anger transmitted into the way he touched
Race.

“I don’t get it.”

“Kissing girls. Women,” Derrick said. “Like Caitlin. They

were making out in the bathroom last night and out on the
dance floor. Stella wanted to bring her home with us last
night. I had to go along with it, or she would have made a big
scene at the party in front of the press and the network
guys.”

“Dude, girls kissing each other, then taking both of

them home from a Hollywood party is a good thing. I don’t
get why you’re so upset.”

“It totally ruins the image we’ve created. Now everyone

has a completely different impression about me and about
my relationship with Stella than what I wanted.” Derrick had
taken his hand off of Race’s back again. He was practically
talking to himself, so Race just listened and tried to figure
out what the hell he was talking about. Derrick and Stella’s
image was of a perfect, totally-in-love, Hollywood dream
relationship, but this wasn’t enough to shatter that. “She
only had a few rules to follow, but the number one rule was

Disguises | EM Lynley

not to go off with anyone else when she’s out with me, and

certainly not at a network publicity event. She’s supposed to

be my girlfriend, for fuck’s sake. I’m just waiting for photos to
go public. Everyone will be able to figure out the truth now.”

“What truth?” Race waited for a reply, but Derrick

stayed silent. “Derrick, are you saying the truth is that Stella

is gay?” Race was even more confused.

“Yes. No. I’m trying to tell you that… I… am.” Derrick’s

voice was small, and Race couldn’t tell if he sounded relieved
or embarrassed at what he’d just said. Race wasn’t even
entirely certain he’d heard Derrick properly.

Race rolled over onto his back and sat up in the bed.

Derrick didn’t look at him. He just sat there staring at his
hands, his fingers still slightly covered in the clear gel.

“Wow. That was big news.” Race paused for a moment.

“Are you ashamed of that or something?”

“No,” Derrick said softly, and then “No!” more defiantly.

“Why would you ask that?”

“I guess because you never said anything about that to

me before, so you obviously didn’t want me to know. I
thought we were best friends—”

“We were. We are.”

“—and we share everything, or pretty close to it. Why

didn’t you tell me before? Or didn’t you trust me with this?”
He let his tone betray the hurt he felt. How could Derrick
keep such a big secret from him?

“Of course I trust you.” It was Derrick’s turn to look

wounded. “That’s not why I didn’t say anything. I’m not

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exactly sure why. But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth
sooner, and I’m even more sorry if I upset you because I
didn’t share this.”

“This is something pretty important, so yeah, I’m

surprised and hurt that you’re only getting around to telling
me now.”

“Does it matter?” Derrick’s eyes searched Race’s, full of

fear and apprehension.

“Matter that you’re gay? No.” Race couldn’t read the

expression on Derrick’s face, but it didn’t exactly exude
relief. Had he wanted Race to make a big fuss about it? Race
didn’t have any issue with anyone’s sexual orientation. It
wasn’t any of his business. If Derrick wanted to keep it a
secret, he still should have known he could trust Race not to
tell anyone else. But somewhere, deep inside, he felt that

hearing this about Derrick did matter, but he wasn’t exactly
sure why.

“So, we’re just going to go on like this never happened?”

Derrick’s tone was some combination of hopeful and
miserable.

“Did you expect me to go running for the hills? To throw

you out? To stop being your friend?” Race’s voice grew
louder. He knew he also needed to convince himself not to be
hurt that Derrick hadn’t trusted him. “Well, I won’t. You’re
still my best friend. That hasn’t changed. All that’s changed
is that you can finally be yourself, at least around me.”

“I’m glad I finally told you. I feel like I have to wear a

mask all the time, even around you. I should have told you a
long time ago, but once we got to be such good friends….”

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Derrick paused and looked at his hands again. “I was afraid
it would scare you away from being as close, and I didn’t
want to lose that.” Derrick almost visibly relaxed now, clearly
relieved to come clean at last.

“So, now I can understand why you were with Stella, for

your public image.”

“Yeah, though I’m not sure if she hasn’t done more

damage than good recently.” Derrick sighed morosely before
he went on. “It seemed like a good idea at the time when we
first came up with the arrangement. We met on a film we did
together a few years back, and got to be pretty friendly. One
day Stella told me we wouldn’t ever be more than friends
because she didn’t date men. After she admitted that, I felt
comfortable telling her about myself. We got along so well,

and people thought we were dating, that we decided to just
go with it, since it would help both of us out. It was such a
huge sense of relief because she was in exactly the same
situation I was. But now she doesn’t seem to be so
concerned about keeping her own secret, and I can’t let it be
known it was all a charade.”

They sat there quietly for a few moments. Derrick

seemed talked out after he’d finally explained his situation to
Race, and Race needed to absorb this new information.

“Is there anything else you’ve been hiding? Like a secret

boyfriend you’ve got stashed away somewhere?” Race didn’t
see how that would be possible, since he and Derrick spent
almost every waking minute together, but he wanted to

know. He needed to know everything now. The fact that
there were these big secrets between them made it feel as if

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Derrick was slipping away from him, and that possibility
terrified Race. It had suddenly become clear to Race how
important his friendship to Derrick was—now that it might
never be the same.

“No,” Derrick laughed and smiled shyly. The answer

pleased Race more than he could fathom. He didn’t like the
idea that someone shared more with Derrick than he could.
He didn’t want anyone to come between the two of them.
Since they’d met, Race had felt a connection, a bond with
Derrick he’d never tried to define. They simply clicked, as if
they’d always known each other. They had so many things in
common, but enough differences that made spending time
with each other such great fun. If anything, Race had
thought the bond had grown stronger over the two and half
years they’d known each other and worked and played
together.

And even when Stella visited, the three of them got

along so well that Race was included in just about all of their
plans. It had all worked out so perfectly. Race had been fine
with the idea of sharing Derrick with Stella, but he couldn’t

stand the thought of sharing him with another man. This
new information wasn’t an end to their close friendship.

Could it be, instead, an opportunity to be closer? Race’s
mind spun with possibilities he’d never even considered
before. Until now, he hadn’t thought of Derrick as anything
more than a friend, because he’d had this preconceived
notion of straight-Derrick spending the rest of his life with
Stella and Race being a part of their lives. But now all the
rules had changed, and Race could consider other
alternatives.

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He hadn’t realized he’d been sitting there, silent, for

several minutes until Derrick’s voice penetrated the
cacophony in his head.

“Race? You okay?” Derrick had a worried look on his

face, his brow furrowed, lips pursed. “What are you
thinking? Are you really okay with this? I would hate for this
to ruin things between us.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, stop worrying.” Race laughed and

Derrick joined in, with his usual shining smile, which had
been hidden so far today. “I’m thinking you haven’t finished
putting that goop on me yet.”

Derrick looked at him, as if he’d just noticed that Race

was sitting there on the bed with him, wearing only his
boxer-briefs.

“You still want me to do this?” Derrick seemed suddenly

awkward with the intimacy of the situation.

“Yes, of course I do.”

“I thought since,” Derrick absently waved a hand,

indicating himself, “you might not want me to, you know,
touch you.”

“Well, I’d rather have you touch me than Eliza, any day

of the week.” That was true, and it made Race think as he
lay down and rolled onto his stomach. “I mean, if you want
to.”

“Yeah, I want to.” Embarrassment flashed across

Derrick’s features, and then he laughed. “Oh, that didn’t
sound too good did it?”

“No, it didn’t. I might totally misinterpret that.” Race

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joined in Derrick’s laughter.

Race had always considered himself straight. Sure, he

might have had a couple of minor experiences with other
guys along the way, but just about everyone had from what
he could tell. The idea that slowly formed in his head—of

doing something major, with Derrick—took him by surprise
at first. But the more he thought about it, the more it
seemed like the right thing, the natural progression of their
friendship.

In fact, now that he entertained the thought, a lot of

what he’d been feeling lately finally clicked into place. The
way he’d thought about Derrick in so many inappropriate
situations, and how often he’d become aroused at physical
contact with him. Race’s inexplicable and increasing feelings
of jealousy toward Stella should have made him realize what
had been happening long before now. Somehow along the
way, Race had fallen in love with Derrick and only now
realized the depth and significance of their connection.

Unaware of what Race was thinking, Derrick went back

to the task of applying the soothing gel to Race’s inflamed
skin just as gently and tenderly as he had done before. This
time, Race let himself enjoy the feel of Derrick’s hands on his
skin, considering what it might be like if Derrick were
touching him in a different way. He thought about the way
his body had reacted to Derrick’s touch earlier that day in
the trailer, and he realized that it wasn’t such a stretch to
discover that he wanted Derrick to touch him in a whole new
way.

“Rick?”

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“What?”

“Well, since we’re being all honest about things

tonight….”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to tell you that feels really good. Really, really

good.” Hey, might as well test the waters here, Race thought.

“Oh! I can stop.” Derrick pulled his hands off of Race.

“I meant it more like… I liked it and don’t want you to

stop.” Race wished he could see Derrick’s face now, to get
some idea of his reaction. Race was even a bit surprised at
himself that he’d said anything. A terrible thought crossed
his mind. What if Derrick wasn’t actually attracted to him?
What if Race’s feelings weren’t mutual? That would be way
more awkward than if he were. But Derrick put his hand
back on Race, continuing to smooth the gel on Race’s back,
and then moved down to work on the welts on Race’s thighs.
The soft, intimate touch had the same effect on him now as
it had earlier, in Derrick’s trailer. Race could feel himself
getting aroused again, but this time he didn’t try to fight it.

“I guess I need to do your ass now,” Derrick said.

“Okay.”

“Well, you need to pull your shorts down.”

“You can do it.”

“Race, stop fucking with me; it’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be funny. I want you to do it,” Race

said.

Derrick made a noise that indicated he was annoyed,

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but he tucked his fingers into the waistband of Race’s boxer-
briefs anyway.

Race could feel Derrick’s hands shake slightly as he

slowly slid them down Race’s hips. “See? That wasn’t so
difficult. It can’t be the first time you’ve pulled a guy’s shorts
down.”

“It’s the first time I’ve pulled your shorts down.” Derrick

daubed gel on quickly and pulled the boxer-briefs back up

Race’s hips. And maybe not the last, Race mused as he rolled
over onto his back, not even attempting to hide his growing
erection. Derrick was looking at his face and didn’t notice.

“Thank you,” Race said, and he meant it.

“You know, I’m just gonna leave the—” Derrick started

to say, nervously stopping as he saw the obvious outline of
Race’s cock through the thin cotton. “Race, I told you not to
fucking tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” Race noticed the tell-tale bulge

growing in Derrick’s jeans. “I told you I liked it when you
touched me, and I meant it. I want you to… touch me some
more.” Race’s voice went up slightly, turning his statement
into a request.

“Look, I shared something really important with you

tonight. Please don’t turn it into a game.”

“I’m not joking, and I’m sorry if you think I am. I’m

serious.”

“But we’re friends! You’re my best friend. If I… if we….”

He glanced away from Race and turned his eyes toward the

ceiling for a moment. “I don’t want to lose that. I can’t lose

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that. You know you’re the most important person to me,
outside of my family.”

“You’ve never thought it could be more than

friendship?” Race had no idea where this was coming from,
but it felt like the right thing to say just then… to suggest. It
seemed like the most important thing in the world.

“You’re straight. It never seemed like a possibility, so I

didn’t want to even consider it and be disappointed.”

“Well, you were wrong about me. I guess you weren’t the

only one hiding a secret.” Race’s mouth seemed to have
disconnected from his brain. He had no idea what he was
saying. All he knew was he definitely wanted more from
Derrick than friendship, and he wanted it now.

“So, what… you’re saying you’re bi? That you’ve been

with guys before?” The surprise in Derrick’s voice was
obvious.

“Yes,” Race lied. He’d never seriously thought about

sleeping with another man before. But this was Derrick, not
just any man. And that made it entirely different. He knew,
though, that if he told Derrick the truth, there was every
chance that he would leave. Race wasn’t sure Derrick
couldn’t believe he really wanted more than friendship. Rick
would think he was just caught up in the moment or
reacting to the debacle with Eliza. Derrick wouldn’t want to
do anything that would destroy their friendship. But now, it
felt to Race like there was only one way to save it. “Please,
Rick? I want you so badly—to be much more than just
friends.”

Derrick looked down into Race’s eyes for a moment and

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must have believed his sincerity. Race knew just saying it
wouldn’t convince Derrick. But Race’s eyes and body did.
Very slowly Derrick leaned down and brushed his lips
against Race’s. Their gentle softness blazed across the
millions of sensitive nerve endings in Race’s own lips and
nearly made him gasp out loud at the pleasure of that simple
touch.

Derrick pulled back slightly. “You’re sure about this?”

Race nodded, eyes fixed on Derrick’s, and absently

licked his lower lip at the thought of what would happen
next. He was never more sure of anything before—or more
frightened that he might have gone about this all the wrong
way.

“Do that again,” Derrick whispered.

“Do what?”

“Lick your lower lip.”

Race did, loving the way Derrick watched hungrily as

the tip of Race’s tongue swept slowly across his full lower lip,
mouth falling open. Derrick pulled Race close, wrapping his
arms around him. Then he leaned down and gently swiped
his tongue across Race’s lip, following the path Race’s own
tongue had taken, only even more slowly.

At that, Race’s cock twitched, which Derrick clearly took

as encouragement.

Race didn’t know what to say or do. Derrick’s body

against his felt so good; he wanted to respond to Derrick’s
tongue but was afraid. Not of kissing or touching or even
fucking Derrick. What Race feared was that Derrick might

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stop and let go of him, and their friendship would never

recover, because that would be the worst thing in the world.

Instead Derrick focused his attention on Race’s mouth,

this time licking a trail across each lip in turn.

“Mmmm, I always thought about how gorgeous your

mouth is, and your lips taste as good as they look.”

Race had never wanted a kiss so much in his entire life.

He let Derrick set the pace, not wanting to seem too
aggressive or too needy. Finally, Derrick pressed his lips to
Race’s for a soft kiss, and a slight brush of tongue against
Race’s lip, before taking the lower lip into his mouth and
sucking at it. Race thought he would explode at how
incredible that felt. Race let Derrick lick and suck at his lips,
feasting on them with such intensity it was as if he’d finally
been allowed to do something he’d wanted to do for a very
long time.

It felt the same way to Race; it all felt so natural, so

right to be with Derrick that he marveled at how he hadn’t
figured it out or acted upon his urges sooner.

“Oh, Race. Love your mouth. Thought about it, about

this,” Derrick murmured against Race’s mouth as they
kissed, and it sent a thrill all the way to Race’s toes and all

of his more erogenous spots. Derrick had thought about it!
Race’s cock was so hard, he thought he would die, and
Derrick hadn’t even gotten his tongue into Race’s mouth yet.
This first encounter wasn’t going to last long, he thought.
Then Derrick’s tongue gently parted his lips, entering and
exploring his mouth. Race’s tongue met it, and they spent
delicious minutes discovering each other in a whole new

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way. Derrick was an amazingly talented kisser, but it was
the sounds he was making that pleased Race even more
than the sensations taking over his mouth and body.
Knowing that Derrick wanted this, was enjoying it, enjoying

Race, was more than enough.

Derrick’s mouth and hands trailed down Race’s throat

and neck, along his shoulders, carefully avoiding the areas
Eliza had damaged. While they kissed Derrick had removed
his own clothes, and Race had hardly noticed. Feeling
Derrick’s naked body on top of him, huge erection digging
into his hip, Race definitely took notice. He let his hands
play along Derrick’s smooth muscular arms and shoulders
and back, tracing each muscle as if to memorize its
contours. When Derrick’s mouth reached for one of Race’s
painfully sore nipples, it caused him to inhale suddenly,
reminding Derrick to be careful. Derrick rolled off of Race
and reached for the tube of gel, soothing and stroking each
nipple gently until he had Race moaning and arching up into
his hand. Derrick softly kissed each mark and welt his
mouth discovered, healing Race with tenderness, as he
moved slowly down his body. Race fisted his hands in
Derrick’s shaggy mop of hair, feeling how silky soft it was.
He’d never realized that. So many things he’d never realized
about his best friend until today. But now he’d have the
chance to discover everything about him.

When Derrick’s lips touched his cock, the whimper that

escaped Race’s mouth startled even him, and he hoped it
wasn’t as loud as it sounded. The feel of Derrick’s tongue
licking down the length and then back up, swirling around
the head and gently poking into the slit, was unlike anything

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Race had felt before. He’d had plenty of blow jobs in his life,

some of them amazing, but this time it was Derrick’s mouth
doing these things to him, and that was still a bit
overwhelming. Race nearly came but he wanted this to go on
forever, never wanted Derrick to take his mouth off of him.

Race had no idea how much hotter it was watching Derrick
as he continued licking and sucking, and his hands explored
more of Race’s body. He felt soft fingers caressing his balls,
slowly moving farther back, ghosting around his hole before
gently touching him. Race let out a moan, surprised at how
wonderful it felt and how desperate he was for more.

“Mmmm, Rick… want you inside me,” Race said softly.

He was pretty sure he meant it too. At first he’d said it to
avoid Derrick figuring out that Race didn’t know how to fuck
a guy. But the more Derrick touched him, and the more
aroused Race got, he meant it one hundred percent. He
couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want for his first time—or
at all, really. Race was pretty sure he wouldn’t be doing this
with anyone else but Derrick, ever.

Derrick lifted his head off of Race’s cock.

“Race, the lube? And a condom?”

Huh? Race almost said out loud before he remembered

he should have all that stuff. He reached over to the drawer
of the night table, pulled out what Derrick needed, and
handed it to him. Derrick squeezed some lube into one hand
and bent back down, resuming where he’d left off with
Race’s cock. Race just lay there, letting Derrick touch him in
amazing ways and trying not to make too much noise.

A fingertip slipped its way down to whisper around his

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entrance again then smoothly circle it a few times, and he
sighed gently at the touch. Derrick was still sucking and
licking at his cock, and Race focused his attention there
until the fingertip poked its way inside. He didn’t mean to
flinch, but he couldn’t help it. The finger slid out again, and
then in just a tiny bit. That wasn’t so bad, he thought. Race
had partners who had pushed a fingertip in before, and he’d
enjoyed it, but this was entirely different. Derrick’s finger

went a little farther in, a little more. Fuck, Derrick has long

fingers. The finger just kept going very slowly, and Race
relaxed which made it hurt only a little bit. The finger pulled
out and then went back in.

Ooh, that’s starting to feel okay—more than okay—now.

Race let out a little moan. There was some more sliding and
some twisting and wiggling, and he could feel himself being
stretched open very slowly and gently. There was only some
slight discomfort but no actual pain. And every so often,
Derrick would glance up and let his gaze meet Race’s, and
Race could see how much Derrick was enjoying this, and he
spread himself open even more. He trusted Derrick
completely.

So far so good, he thought, until a second finger tried to

join the first one. Race tensed up again, and Derrick stopped
moving his hand until Race relaxed. Then he began again
the sliding and twisting and wiggling. Race could feel the

fingers moving around inside him. And then—holy fuck!—
Derrick brushed up against Race’s prostate, and he thought

he’d died and gone to heaven. It felt so fucking good. Derrick
was still stretching him open, but Race wanted him to hit
that spot again and started moving his hips around, trying

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to make that happen, groaning in frustration.

“Ah, getting impatient now?” Derrick chuckled and

glanced up with a smile at Race, who could only nod. He was
no longer in control of his body, and it moved of its own
accord, chasing the pleasure Derrick’s fingers offered.

Derrick again touched his lips to Race’s cock, swiping

his tongue along the length and finally took it into his
mouth, tonguing the head as he continued to work his
fingers inside. Race had never felt anything like it in his
entire life, and he grunted something to that effect because
words were beyond his capabilities.

Then a third finger slipped in. Race tried moving around

some more and—yes! The fingers hit the magical spot again
and… again. Then Race shuddered uncontrollably, coming
suddenly and shooting into Derrick’s mouth, surprising both
of them. Derrick didn’t manage to swallow everything; some
dribbled down his chin as he smiled up at Race, those
familiar dimples winking.

Race stared in awe at the sight of his come on Derrick’s

lips and chin. When Derrick wiped it off with a finger and
then licked the finger clean—watching that would have made
Race come if he hadn’t just done so. It was just so fucking

hot.

“You have no idea how many times I thought about

doing that too.” Derrick smiled up at Race who was still
speechless, a combination of what was arguably the best
blow job of his life and that fact that his best friend had just

swallowed his load. How much better could it be next time?
“All those breaks we had between scenes? We could have

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been in one trailer or another doing this.” Derrick gave Race
a wicked grin and a chuckle, and then pushed his fingers
back inside of Race’s welcoming body. “You’re so tight. Been
a while, huh?” Derrick asked.

“Yeah, long time.” Like never.

“We can slow down, not do this yet.” Derrick slipped his

fingers out, and Race couldn’t believe how much he wanted
them back inside.

“I want to.” It was more a groan than words and Derrick

smiled, understanding Race’s meaning clearly.

“I’ll go slow then, take good care of you.” Derrick’s voice

was full of reassurance. “We can stop any time you want to.
Just let me know.” He gently inserted those deliciously long
fingers back inside, working them around some more, and
then pulled them out and put more lube on before
reinserting them and stretching some more. Race had never
felt anything like this before and he was surprised at how
much he enjoyed it. He closed his eyes and let the new
sensations overwhelm his body, not even bothering to
suppress his moans. He’d never expected it would feel so
incredible and he wanted more. He hadn’t been sure just
how far he was prepared to go, but the way Derrick made
him feel combined with the obvious tenderness in the way he
touched Race convinced him that he wanted this now.

“Ready?”

Race opened his eyes and met Derrick’s gaze—serious

but loving at the same time.

“Yeah, ready.” Race felt ready, and the fingers had felt

so good that he knew Derrick’s cock would feel even better;

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because it was Derrick, and Derrick was going to be nice and
gentle when he made love to him. Race would share
everything with Derrick now. Everything Race had to give:
his days, his nights, his body, his life, his love. He watched
Derrick put the condom on and then move between Race’s
legs, spreading him open by pulling a knee out toward the
side.

Race suddenly felt very self-conscious and vulnerable,

until Derrick’s gaze met his again. He could see the emotion
in his eyes, the raw desire, and all Race wanted to do was let
Derrick in and give him anything and everything he wanted.

“Race, I almost don’t believe this is happening. Twenty-

four hours ago I wouldn’t have thought it was possible.
Maybe Stella didn’t fuck everything up after all. If it hadn’t
been for her, I wouldn’t have told you.”

“We would have missed out on this, then, so I’m not

sorry that Stella ran off with Caitlin.”

Derrick pressed just the tip of his cock to Race’s hole

and started to slide inside. It’s not all that different from the

fingers, Race thought. I’m really doing this! Derrick continued
to push in very slowly, as if savoring his very first sensation
of being inside of Race. From the look on his face—half-
closed eyes, biting his lower lip—Race could tell that it was
good for Derrick. He loved the way that made him feel… that
his body was giving Derrick such pleasure. Race’s eyes
widened and he tensed up slightly as the stretch became a
burn. Almost instinctively Derrick paused and looked deeply
into Race’s eyes with obvious concern.

“We can stop anytime you want, Race,” Derrick

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reassured him as he stroked Race’s cheek with the back of
his fingers. Race closed his eyes and concentrated on the
simple gentle touch and got control of his breathing.

“No! Don’t stop, just really slowly, please.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to hurt you. We can take

everything a lot more slowly than this, you know.”

“I want you,” Race whispered.

Derrick gazed down into his eyes and Race nodded.

Derrick resumed his movements, slowly and gradually filling
Race up, but taking his time so that Race never felt any
actual pain.

It was even better than Race ever expected once Derrick

was completely inside of him. Race had never felt anything
like this, so completely filled up and so desired, with
Derrick’s arms around him so tightly. He could smell
Derrick’s shampoo and for some reason that made Race even
happier.

Derrick leaned down and captured Race’s mouth in a

kiss before he began to move again, very slowly at first,
waiting until he could see and feel that Race was okay; then
a bit faster—going in all the way on each stroke. He moved
Race’s hips around and shifted positions and angles,
producing so many different sensations that Race just lay
back and enjoyed these brand-new feelings. Derrick kissed
Race and caressed his body, while Derrick’s cock continued
to do wonderful things inside of him.

“So… good… Rick.” Race felt his own cock stir again.

Derrick took hold of it and stroked him to full hardness with
a couple of quick movements. Race bucked his hips again,

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trying to get Derrick to brush that wonderful spot inside, but
also wanting to feel Derrick’s hand on him again. A little
drop of sweat trickled down Derrick’s forehead and down to
the tip of his nose as he looked down into Race’s eyes. Race
looked back, thinking how many thousands of times he’d
looked into those hazel eyes, but this time he saw something
new—not just the dark want in the wide-blown pupils, but
strong emotion. Much more than the reflection of Race’s own
feelings; he saw Derrick’s love, and that made Race melt
inside that much more.

“Gonna come again for me, Race?” Derrick’s voice was

breathy and deep, like liquid sex.

“Yeah, oh yeah,” Race started to say, but his words

deteriorated into groans and grunts, unintelligible noises
that got louder and louder as Derrick pushed into him faster
and harder. He felt like he was floating in space, only aware
of the feel of Derrick’s fingers caressing the head of his cock
and Derrick inside him brushing against his prostate. Then
he saw a bright flash, and his body exploded in the most
delicious way. He felt the hot, wet splash of his own release
across his stomach and chest. His muscles were still
squeezing around Derrick’s cock when he heard Derrick’s
groans, felt him pumping deep inside, and he opened his
eyes so he could watch Derrick’s face. Race had never seen
anything as beautiful as the way Derrick looked when he

was coming inside of him. Derrick collapsed in a sweaty,
helpless heap on Race’s chest, but the weight felt comforting,
not heavy or oppressive as they lay together—a layer of
sweat and Race’s come slick between them—until their
breathing slowed.

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Derrick rolled onto his back and removed the condom,

tossing it in a trash can near the bed. Taking some tissues
from the night table, Derrick cleaned Race up before pulling
him close, Race resting his head on Derrick’s chest.

“Was that what you were expecting?” Derrick asked him

in a throaty whisper. Race looked up at Derrick, at the face
he knew almost as well as his own.

“No,” he said and saw Derrick’s face fall. “It was much

better.”

Derrick smiled and kissed Race for a few minutes.

“You never did that before, did you?” Derrick asked,

sounding amused.

“Yes, I have.”

“Before tonight?” Derrick clarified the question.

“Uh, no… not before tonight. You could tell?”

“Why did you lie?” Derrick ignored Race’s question.

“I didn’t think you’d stay unless I did. And I was afraid

I’d ruined our friendship by wanting you so much. I hadn’t
realized myself that I’d been wanting you for a while now. I
just hadn’t understood how deep my feelings for you were,
until tonight.” Race reached up to touch Derrick’s face, to
run his fingers through the slightly sweat-dampened hair.
Race decided he wouldn’t lie to Derrick anymore, ever again.
Maybe Derrick had kept the truth about his sexual
orientation from him, but Race realized he’d been lying to
himself about his feelings for Derrick. He was just as guilty
as Derrick of hiding behind a disguise. Keeping secrets had
nearly meant they would have missed out on this, on a

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future together as the closest of friends, as lovers.

“Tomorrow we need to go back to just being friends,”

Derrick told him, his tone serious. “I think it’s for the best.”

“What?” Race thought he might cry at the thought of

that, of never knowing Derrick’s touch like this again. Not

now, not after Race finally understood that he loved Derrick.
He couldn’t bear the thought that someone else would have
Derrick when he couldn’t.

“Just kidding. I couldn’t possibly give this up, even if I

wanted to.” Derrick grinned and pulled Race closer, and they
both drifted off to sleep.

They

woke up well before the alarm went off, and Derrick

made love to Race again before they took a shower together,
where they kissed and cuddled and laughed under the hot
water like teenagers. Race didn’t completely understand
exactly why and how their friendship had escalated so
quickly, but he didn’t care and it seemed as if Derrick didn’t
either. It just seemed so right, a natural extension of the
feelings they both already had for each other. Race knew he
hadn’t made a mistake by giving into his emotions and
instincts the night before.

Race dressed and found a clean shirt for Derrick to wear

to the set, so he wouldn’t have to show up in exactly what
he’d been wearing the day before. While they waited for the
studio car to pick them up, Derrick brought up the subject
they had been discussing the night before, with obvious

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reluctance.

“I still need to figure out what to do about Stella.”

Derrick paced around Race’s living room, fists alternately
clenching and relaxing, while Race sat on the couch
watching.

“I honestly don’t see how leaving a network party with

two of the hottest chicks there could hurt your image.” Race
hoped he could reassure Derrick. He hated seeing the
expression of doubt and concern on Derrick’s face “Having
your ‘girlfriend’ run around and get photographed in public
kissing another girl isn’t so good,” Derrick reminded him.

“The press will probably just chalk it up to a little too

much partying, and as long as it doesn’t happen again, you
could just continue your relationship as before. But I guess
you can’t be sure about how she’ll act in public anymore.”
Race frowned slightly.

“I could break up with her and say it’s because of her

behavior, but then she could out me just from spite if I did.
I’d effectively be outing her if I did it that way.” Derrick made
another circuit of the room.

“Why do you think she’d do that? She’s kept both of

your secrets all this time, hasn’t she? Maybe she’s as tired of
hiding as you are and she just wants to change the
agreement. Sure, she should have talked to you about it
before she got Caitlin involved publicly, but I think you
probably need to sit down and discuss the future with her
honestly and calmly. You’ve been genuine friends all this
time, right?” Derrick nodded, and a thoughtful look crossed
his face. “And speaking of sitting down: You’re making me

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nervous the way you’re doing laps around the living room.”

“I am?” Derrick stopped suddenly. He looked as if he

only just realized he’d been pacing.

Race patted the cushion next to him. “Take a load off

and conserve some of that energy for the set.”

Derrick sat down next to Race and looked a bit more

composed.

Race felt more relaxed too, and he enjoyed having

Derrick close to him again, but he tried not to think about

that just now. There were far more important issues they
both needed to concentrate on. “You don’t want to destroy
your friendship with Stella or harm either of your careers,
right? So the way you handle this is going to determine how
the press and public react to the news.”

“I hadn’t really considered that. But you’re right. The

less drama there is, the more likely it won’t turn into an
embarrassing scandal. If either of us does anything hurtful
to the other, it’s going to be very bad PR for both of us.”
Derrick glanced around the room, his gaze drifting from one
piece of furniture to another, as if the idea of remaining still
was impossible for him to contemplate.

“What about waiting a while to break up? Then maybe

no one will connect it directly with the party.”

“Oh, that’s a good plan. I need to talk to Stella about it,

but I think she would go along with that.” Derrick sighed. “I
was so mad at her I was gonna make her stay at a hotel. But
you’ve given me a different perspective on the whole
situation. It’s not about me; it’s about both of us, and we
need to work through this together.” He leaned over and gave

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Race a soft kiss. “Thank you for helping me deal with this
more rationally.”

Race felt a wave of something approaching euphoria

wash across him as he realized that Derrick needed him as
much as he’d come to realize he needed Derrick—not
physically, but emotionally, for advice and support. He
reached out to gently stroke the back of Derrick’s arm before
he replied.

“Even if you don’t work it out right away, you probably

don’t want to ask her to go to a hotel, that’s kind of public.
Someone from the press would notice, and you’d have more
explaining to do. Let her stay at your place and you can stay
here with me.” Race added an inviting smile, thinking about
having Derrick all to himself for a few days and nights. He
knew their night together had only scratched the surface of
new experiences they could share, and he was more than
eager to learn more.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that. Even if I can tell it’s

not motivated entirely by altruism.” Derrick leaned over and
planted another more insistent kiss on Race’s mouth. A kiss
that ended entirely too soon for Race’s liking, but he
remembered they were waiting for their ride to the set, so
there wasn’t time to get distracted. “How about if you come
with me when I talk to her? Then I won’t be alone with her.
And you’ll keep me on my best behavior.”

“I will if you’re sure you want me there, but I think you

should have this discussion in private. If I go, it looks like
it’s more about us than about you and Stella.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Derrick looked

Disguises | EM Lynley

thoughtful. “Do you want me to keep it a secret from Stella…
about us, I mean?”

“I think I need some time to process everything that’s

happened; so maybe that would be best, at least for the time
being. Once you and Stella work things out, you and I will

need to decide how to handle this… whatever this is.” Race
felt suddenly self-conscious in a way he never had in front of
Derrick before. Oh yes, things had definitely changed
between them, and they could never go back.

“Actually, Stella won’t be too surprised when we tell

her.”

“Why not? Does she think I’m gay?” Race realized he

actually was gay—well, bi—but it still hadn’t quite sunk in
yet.

“She knows I’ve had a crush on you and that I’d been

too afraid to say anything. She’ll be thrilled to know how it
worked out and that you were the one who started it.”

Race felt his face and neck heat up to the point that he

would gladly have jumped into a cold shower. He had been
the one to start things when he’d admitted to Derrick how
excited he’d gotten and that he wanted Derrick. What must
Stella—and Derrick—think of him?

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Derrick’s smile was warm and reassuring. “You have no idea
how glad I am you did.”

Race quickly changed the topic back to Stella. “So, the

plan is for you to go and talk to her tonight after work? And
you know… I think I like you better when you’re not on your
best behavior.” Race gave a slight wink, and Derrick smiled

Disguises | EM Lynley

in return, lifting Race’s spirits. He hated seeing Derrick down
in the dumps the way he had been the past two days,
stressing about Stella’s behavior and its possible effect on
his career. But now that Derrick had a plan on how to deal
with her, he seemed much more cheerful. Of course, Race
wanted to think that the wonderful night they’d spent
together had something to do with the huge smile on
Derrick’s face. Race knew he probably had a ridiculously
sappy-in-love smile every time he glanced in Derrick’s
direction, and he better watch himself on the set, lest any of
the cast or crew figure out the direction their friendship had
just taken.

A honk in the street told them the studio car was there.

This wasn’t the first time Derrick had stayed overnight at
Race’s, so it wasn’t completely unexpected for their driver to
find them both climbing into the back of the SUV, therefore
they didn’t worry about what the driver might think or say.
They would need to decide how to handle their new
relationship in public, but that could wait for later. They still
hadn’t really discussed much just yet because they’d been
too busy exploring each other to think about anything
beyond sorting out the Stella situation.

The

day’s shooting went extremely well, with the main

problems caused by technical issues and not by distracted
actors, which was a relief to the whole crew after the
disastrous filming the previous morning. The chemistry
between Race and Derrick was better than ever, and their
scenes just flowed with very few extra takes needed. The

Disguises | EM Lynley

director was thrilled with their progress and gave them an
early lunch break. Derrick and Race immediately went to
Race’s trailer and were in each other’s arms as soon as the
door was locked. They didn’t want to risk being found out
just yet so they just lay together on Race’s bed, kissing and
holding each other, enjoying the quiet closeness and their
new shared secret.

After they wrapped for the day, they were driven to

Race’s where Derrick picked up his car to go back to his own
apartment and talk to Stella. They’d decided it was best for
Derrick to go alone for this particular conversation. Derrick
also didn’t want Stella to know that Race was anything more
than a friend until he and Race had discussed their future.
Derrick worried that if Stella saw them together now she’d be
able to guess the truth. She was always good at picking up
on subtleties like that.

Race waited for Derrick to come back with some clothes,

since he’d be staying for a few days until Stella left town.

And many more times after that, Race thought with a
mischievous grin. He had plenty of ideas of how to spend the
time.

There was a knock at the door and Race let Derrick in.

Before he could close the door, Derrick grabbed him and
pushed him against the wall for a hot, needy kiss. The force
of it bumped Race against the small table in the hallway,
knocking it over, and shattering the lamp that sat there.

Fuck, not another lamp! Race thought but not really caring at
all as he gave in to Derrick’s ardor. They could go shopping
together and buy new lamps that were a bit sturdier than

Disguises | EM Lynley

the ones that Race had recently lost.

They ended up in Race’s bed, naked and hard,

devouring each other’s bodies, much more passionate and
desperate than they’d been the previous two times. As they
lay together afterward, Race was more certain than ever that
he’d made the right decision the night before.

Derrick put some more gel on Race’s welts, which were

starting to disappear. As Race lay on his back, Derrick
looked into his eyes and traced a fingertip along the bow of
his upper lip.

“Rick,” Race said softly. “I thought Marc Antony was

pretty hot. I wouldn’t mind it if he came over and conquered
some new territory for the Roman Empire.”

“That could be arranged.” Derrick laughed and kissed

Race again and again. “But I already had some idea of what I
wanted to do this weekend.”

“Oh you did? What did you have in mind?” Race asked,

suspecting it was going to be immensely enjoyable. Derrick
reached up and pulled the Fedora off the bedpost where it
was perched, settling it onto Race’s head.

“I thought it might be nice to spend the weekend in

Indiana.”

EM Lynley

works in the wine industry, though she'd rather

be writing hot, sexy man-on-man action. She spent ten years
as an economist and financial analyst, including a year as a
White House Staff Economist, but only because all the intern
positions were filled. Tired of boring herself and others with
dry business reports and articles, her creative muse is back
and naughtier than ever. She has lived and worked in
London, Tokyo, and Washington, D.C., but the San
Francisco Bay Area is home for now.

Visit her web site at http://www.emlynley.com, her blog at
http://emlynley.livejournal.com,

her

Twitter

page

http://twitter.com/emlynley,

and

her

Facebook

http://www.facebook.com/emlynley.

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of
the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead,
business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Catt Ford

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any
means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and
upon
conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to
others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the
publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston
Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
October 2009

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-089-5

Document Outline

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Disguises
About the Author
Dreamspinner Press

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