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The Photographer’s Assistant by

Andrew Grey

The Arrangement by Ryan Field

About the Authors

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The Photographer’s Assistant

By Andrew Grey

Chapter One

“Move that light just a little more to the left,” Christian

said as he paced around the room, looking at the photoset
from every angle. “Okay,” he added almost to himself.
“David, stand right there,” he pointed, and David did as he
was asked. He’d been working as Christian’s assistant for
about three months now and he knew better than to
question anything, even though he could see that to

really

test the light and shadow, Christian needed to have David
lie on the bed. Not that David would have second thoughts
about doing that. Fuck, if Christian asked, David would be
naked and have his legs wrapped around Christian’s waist
in two seconds flat. The man was a genius, and David
Weatherby found his boss the hottest, most intriguing man
he’d ever met, but Christian Pierre Coulliet, the foremost
erotic photographer in the country barely noticed him at all.
Not that David could blame him. No one had ever really
noticed him, and certainly not for his looks, which were
plain and extremely ordinary. David Weatherby was
invisible, especially around here, where gorgeous men
paraded through the studio wearing only ripped t-shirts,

skimpy briefs, or more likely nothing at all.

“Is this what you want?” David asked, moving slightly so

Christian could check to see how the shadows fell.

“No,” Christian said absently, still looking for what was

wrong. David could tell him, but he’d found out the hard way
that it was best if he let Christian figure it out. The man was
as temperamental as they came. “Move that light just a
shade to the left,” Christian said absently, and David
moved it just to the right. Christian grunted before standing
up and smiling. If he’d been wrong, he could have played a
mistake, but David could sense what Christian wanted and
he gave it to him.

A knock sounded on the studio door, and David moved

out of the set and toward it to answer, knowing that
Christian hadn’t even heard it. “I’m Stavros, Mr. Coulliet’s
expecting me.”

David stepped back and let the olive-skinned beauty

enter the studio. He had deep eyes and carefully trimmed
stubble on his high, sculpted cheekbones. Christian’s
camera was going to love him. “Stavros,” Christian called
with a smile on his face as the model approached him. The
two men shook hands. “We’re ready for you. This is David,
my assistant. It’ll be just me and him during the shoot, so I
don’t want you to be nervous or intimidated. What I do is
very intimate. You and I are going on a journey that will
result in some amazing photographs that people will
remember for years.”

Stavros swallowed, and David could see Christian

intimidated him a little, but that wasn’t unusual. Christian

intimidated almost everyone, but he was a master at putting
them at ease and getting the absolute most from his
models. “What do I need to do?” Christian walked to his
camera, and David stood just outside the ring of lights that
encircled the white-sheeted bed. “Should I start clothed?”

“No,” Christian answered without turning around.

“Behind the curtain in the corner are packages of black
briefs; put on a pair and lie face down on the bed.”
Christian didn’t even look at him as he spoke, and David
could see the man’s nerves begin to ramp up. Without
being asked, he walked to where Stavros stared at
Christian and lightly touched his hand.

“Right this way.” David showed Stavros where he could

change, and waited until he came out from behind the
screen. “You look great,” he told the model, and motioned
him back toward the bed. “Lie with your face down, but
facing him. Christian is the best, and you’re amazingly
beautiful.” David didn’t have to lie, because Stavros was
stunning. And when he stepped into the light and
descended onto the bed, his skin shone and played off the
stark white sheets and the small strip of black fabric around
his waist.

“That’s perfect,” Christian nearly purred, and the camera

began shooting. “Lovely, now look up at me.” The small
click of the camera shutter sounded. “Perfect. You’re
absolutely perfect.” Christian kept shooting and moving.
“Let your arm hand off the edge of the bed and turn to look
at me.” Christian kept taking pictures, and David stood
back and away, but close enough to be there if Christian

needed anything. “Lovely.” Christian moved closer and then
backed away, taking photograph after photograph. He had
Stavros moved in a number of ways, on his stomach and
then onto his back, taking dozens of photographs. “I need
you on your stomach again after your slip off the briefs.”
Stavros complied, and Christian began taking more
photographs. “That’s lovely, you look superb,” Christian
crooned in his deep voice as he moved to the foot of the
bed. “Lift your head to look at me.” The shutter sounded
softly. “Now lift your hips,” Christian said, and Stavros
complied. “Perfect,” Christian told him. “Look at me like you
want me, yes, like you want to get fucked more than
anything in the world.” The model’s expression shifted, and
David could see exactly that. Without words, he could see
that was exactly what Stavros wanted. He looked wanton,
glistening with sweat from being under the hot lights. “That’s
it. All you want right now is a big, thick cock sliding right into
your body,” Christian said in his resonant voice, and
Stavros shuddered. “Is that what you want?”

“Fuck, yes,” Stavros muttered as Christian took picture

after picture from all angles. “I want you to fuck me right
now,” Stavros muttered, and David shifted back slightly
where he couldn’t be seen and adjusted himself before
trying to clear his mind and remember that this was a photo
shoot.

“Not yet, pretty one,” Christian said and continued

taking photographs. “Roll onto your side.” Stavros did as
Christian asked, his cock hard and bobbing as he moved.
“That’s lovely, arms over your head and stretch your body

for me. Make yourself look as long and tall as you can.
Reach for the headboard.” The camera never stopped.
“Perfection.” Christian took picture after picture, and David
stood mesmerized by what Christian got his models to do
and how he made them look.

David watched as Stavros writhed on the bed,

Christian’s sultry voice telling him what he wanted, and
Stavros moving exactly that way. “Lie on your back,”
Christian told his model as though they were making love,
and Stavros did, running his hands over his skin as
Christian continued shooting. David had seen this many
times before. Stavros was in a world of his own, where it
was only him and Christian. Stavros reached out for
Christian, and he continued shooting as Stavros
descended into passion. Before coming to work for
Christian, David had never dreamed that something like
this was possible, but Christian lured all his subjects in with
just the sound of his voice, and for the last three months
David had gone along for each and every ride.

“Stroke your chest for me,” Christian told Stavros, and

the young man ran his hands over his skin, fingers plucking
and pinching his own nipples. David knew Stavros was
imagining that his hands were Christian’s because David
did the same thing night after night. “Yes, that’s beautiful.”

“I want you,” Stavros moaned softly as he stared at

Christian, his eyes burning, and Christian continued
shooting. This was the effect he was after: the hot,
smoldering look of passion barely contained. He was
famous for it. Before David had come to work for Christian,

he’d always wondered how Christian’s pictures captured
such intensity, and now he knew. Christian made each
model fall in love with him, if only for a few hours. “I want you
so bad my skin burns,” Stavros said with a need that
rumbled in his chest. David shifted almost continuously as
he watched the session, trying to keep his attention where it
belonged, on the technical aspects of the shoot, but all he
could do was watch Christian as he prowled around the
bed like a large cat, snapping picture after picture of the
vision that curled and writhed on the sheets.

Christian stepped away from the bed, but Stavros’ and

Christian’s eyes never left each other. David had learned
very early on that this was part of Christian’s magic. When
he was with a model, his eyes never left the subject and his
focus never wavered. David knew that Christian’s attention
could be powerful, and he was seeing that demonstrated
right in front of his eyes as Christian set his hand held
camera aside and picked up the mobile activator. “Is this
what you really want?” Christian asked as he moved closer
once again.

“Yes,” Stavros hissed softly. “Fuck me.”
Christian stepped closer still, pressing the plunger as

Stavros reached out to him, his lips begging. Nine cameras
all around the bed went off at the same time, capturing
Stavros’ expression from every angle. Christian stepped
closer, and when Stavros opened the fastener on
Christian’s pants, they fell to the floor. Christian stepped out
of them, and Stavros slid to the edge of the bed, his legs
coming to his chest in front of Christian, who set the plunger

on the bed and rolled on a lubed condom.

David’s hips began to thrust on their own as he watched

the scene unfold in front of him. David heard the shudders
click almost silently as Christian sank into Stavros. He
heard the model groan as he was stretched on Christian’s
thick cock. “Yes,” Stavros cried, and David wanted to move
closer but didn’t dare in case he cast a shadow. Moving
slowly and silently in sock feet, David shifted until he could
see Stavros’ face in the throes of blissful passion. This was
the expression Christian was famous for—total passionate
abandon.

Soft murmurs reached David’s ears, but he could make

out nothing of what was actually being said. That wasn’t
needed. Both men were lost in their own world, and the only
sound David could make out for certain was the soft click of
the cameras and the occasional groan from Stavros as
Christian fucked him with abandon. “Come for me,
sweetheart,” Christian said, his voice deep and rough.
Stavros moaned and began to keen softly as their passion
built. David could feel his own rising as he watched
Christian’s tight, round ass pulsate as he and Stavros
moved together. David found his attention centering on
Christian’s butt, wishing he was on the receiving side of all
that sensual energy. His own hole throbbed and pulsed as
he clenched, his hips moving back and forth in time to
Christian’s. David saw Stavros’s mouth fall open as he
cried out, and David knew he was coming. He didn’t have
to see him painting his chest with white streaks. He could
see it by the expression on his face. Christian was coming

as well, even as the camera shutters continued. David’s
legs began to shake as his balls pulled up to his body, and
he brought his hand to his mouth as he, too, came hard, his
eyes slamming shut as his orgasm barreled through him
like a freight train.

Tingles floated through his body, and David knew he

had to remain upright. Opening his mouth, he breathed as
evenly and levelly as he could, wishing there was something
he could hold on to keep himself standing. Gradually, the
feeling passed, and David became aware of himself
enough to turn away from the others. Silently, he removed
the tissues he’d used to line his briefs, throwing them away.
He’d learned the hard way that he had to do something,
because this tended to happen during these sessions.
Flipping out the photographic lights, he threw the room into
near darkness, knowing that both Christian and Stavros
would need some time. David waited until he heard
movement before turning on one of the soft lights on the far
side of the studio, then he opened the door and left the
work area, sitting on the sofa in Christian’s apartment, and
waited.

David knew he should be ashamed of himself. He was

there to do a job, and though he’d tried to be
dispassionate, it never worked. It wasn’t the models that
got him worked up. They were strangers, and he really
didn’t feel anything for them no matter how beautiful they
were. It was Christian who drove him out of his mind. David
knew he shouldn’t allow himself to feel anything at all for his
boss, but he did. Christian was demanding and impatient,

but that was when he was working. At other times, he was
warm and as open as anyone David had ever met. That
was the Christian he liked, the one that made his heart
race, and the one he kept seeing during every photo shoot.
He knew he shouldn’t feel this way—he had no right to.

Checking his watch, he sighed and stood up, quietly

opening the door to the studio. David stepped inside and
closed it behind him, quietly walking the perimeter of the
room to where Christian kept a small desk. He sat down
and began calling up the pictures from the shoot, getting
them all together because Christian would want to see
them right away, and they needed to be cataloged and
organized.

Looking up from the monitor, he saw Christian sitting on

the side of the bed, fully clothed, lightly stroking Stavros’s
skin. They were talking very softly, and David saw Christian
lean forward, kissing the model very lightly before moving
away. Christian walked toward him, and David lowered his
eyes as he got back to work. He needed to concentrate
and keep his mind off the feelings that threatened to
overwhelm him. He’d seen Christian act the same way with
a number of guys over the past few months. Not all of
Christian’s sessions ended with sex, but enough did that
David knew the routine. Christian let each of them down
very gently. What he said to them David didn’t know,
because he was always outside the room for fifteen
minutes or so. “Take your time, David,” Christian said
softly. “I believe these pictures are some of the best yet.”

David nodded but said nothing, trying to keep his eyes

from traveling to the naked man still resting on the bed.
Christian must have followed David’s gaze, because he
walked back toward the bed, pressing the plunger on the
remote cameras a few times before joining Stavros once
again. After more words and another light kiss, the young
model stirred and slowly got up off the bed, walking naked
back to where he’d changed his clothes. As soon as he
was behind the screen, Christian turned and nodded to
David before leaving the room.

David waited until Stavros stepped from behind the

curtain before getting up and walking over to him. “You
were amazing,” David said. “The photographs will be
extremely powerful.”

David saw Stavros look toward the door to the

apartment. “Do you really think so?” he asked haltingly.

“Yes. I haven’t seen them all yet, but what I have looked

at are incredible.” David walked Stavros toward the studio
door. “Please take as much time as you need before
leaving.”

Stavros looked at the floor, obviously uncomfortable. “Is

it always like this?” he asked, and David nodded his head
slowly.

“Christian always pulls a great deal of emotion out of his

models. They always feel the way you are now once the
session is over. Go outside and get some fresh air, take a
walk to clear your head and you’ll feel much better, I
promise you.” David had said this same thing to many of
the other models that had worked with Christian. Whether
there was sex involved or not, they all seemed to leave a

little disoriented because he pulled so much from them
while they were in the studio. “If you need some time before
you leave,” David motioned to the sofa by the door. “Please
have a seat and I can bring you some water if you like. You
don’t have to leave until you feel ready.”

Stavros looked toward the apartment door once again.

“Will he come back?”

David shook his head. “He won’t be back in the studio

at all today.” Christian never returned to the studio once he
was done with a session. Probably so he wouldn’t have to
face the insecurities of his models. He’d told David once
that after a photo session, both his and the model’s
emotions were too close to the surface and they needed
separation. At first, David had thought that was just a cop-
out on Christian’s part to get away, but he’d come to realize
that maybe it wasn’t. “Like I said, take your time. Would you
like something to drink?”

“Maybe water,” Stavros said, and David got it for him as

Stavros settled on the sofa.

“I’ll be at the desk if you need anything,” David said,

walking across the studio to the corner to give the young
man a chance to collect himself.

David went back to work cataloging and organizing the

photos according to Christian’s system, which he was still
learning, because it wasn’t based on the type of image, but
on the emotion being conveyed. It had been daunting at
first, but David had pretty much gotten the hang of it, which
was a little scary in itself because it required him to think a
bit like Christian, and that could be a strange place to visit.

“Thank you,” he heard from the other side of the studio,

and he looked up from his work. Stavros was standing near
the door, and he sounded much more like the man who’d
walked into the studio earlier.

“No problem. Take care, and we’ll be in touch,” David

said as he lifted his hand in a wave. Then he heard the
studio door open and close. David continued working for a
while before saving everything to the server. Then he shut
everything down and turned off all the lights before opening
the door the Christian’s apartment.

He knew where he’d find him: on his bed. David walked

into the bedroom, and Christian opened his eyes, shivering
slightly, so David pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed
over his boss. “Is he okay?”

“Stavros is fine. He left just a few minutes ago, and I’ve

begun sorting the photographs. You can start accessing
them when you’re ready.” David walked through the room,
turning off the lights. Walking into Christian’s sparkling
kitchen, David put together a light dinner, leaving it in the
refrigerator for when Christian got hungry later, and then left
his boss’s apartment to begin the cross-town trek to his
own.

The evening was nice, so the walk wasn’t bad, but

David couldn’t help wondering what he was going to do
when the weather began to get cold. He figured he’d have
to take the subway, but on an evening like this, it was great
to be outdoors. He could clear his head and hopefully let go
of all that stuff with Christian. Arriving at his building, he
walked up to the fourth floor and fished his keys out of his

pocket.

The door opened before he could put the key in the

lock, and his roommate Javier smiled at him. “I heard you
come up,” he said as David entered the tiny apartment.
There were just two rooms, a living room/kitchen and a
bedroom that they shared. It wasn’t much, but it was what
they could afford. “So how was your day in pornland?”
Javier asked, and David rolled his eyes. Javier had been
picking on him about his job since he’d gotten it and he
hadn’t let up one bit.

“It’s not porn,” David retorted without conviction,

knowing it wouldn’t do any good anyway. And after the
things he’d seen in the last few months, he was beginning
to wonder what it really was. “The shoot today was great.
We got some amazing pictures.”

“Did you put him to bed and make his dinner before you

left?” Javier quipped, and then his mouth dropped open.
“You did,” Javier accused. “Just yesterday you said you
weren’t going to be his nursemaid anymore, and here you
are doing it again. What did he do this time, swing from the
ceiling as he peed on him?” Javier flopped onto the sofa.

“Javier, stop, please,” David began as he held his head.

He could feel the ache starting behind his eyes. “I’ve had an
exhausting day, and while Christian may be unorthodox, the
pictures he gets are stunning and I’m learning so much from
him.” He went to the bathroom and got some Ibuprofen,
taking two pills before flopping on the sofa next to his
roommate. “He needs me, and he didn’t ask. I just did it
because otherwise he won’t eat.”

“He doesn’t need to ask, does he?” Javier said, and

David knew he was right. David did the things he did
because someone had to, and because of the way he felt
about his boss—not that he could ever say anything, so he
showed him. Granted, Christian never noticed, but David
knew he’d at least made an effort. “You’d do anything for
him because of how you feel about him.”

David looked at Javier, about to deny it, but he couldn’t.

Javier knew him too damn well. They’d gone to high school
and then college together, and they’d both escaped the
same small town in the middle of nowhere South Dakota.
Together they’d moved to New York less than a year ago.
“And how is that?” David challenged.

“Jesus, you’re acting the same way you did with Bobby

Martin when we were seniors. You mooned over him for
months, and he was straight, but he let you think he was
interested because you did all his shit for him.” Javier
shifted on the old sofa, tucking his legs under him. “You
deserve more than what guys like Christian can give you.
Besides, he’s your boss and he most certainly should treat
you as a professional rather than as his fuck toy.”

“Well he doesn’t treat me like that, that’s for damned

sure.”

Javier touched his shoulder. “You’re in love with him,

aren’t you?” Javier’s voice was so low and sincere that
David nodded in a moment of weakness. “You know
nothing can come out of it, don’t you? He’s your boss, and
he fucks half the guys that come into his studio. He’s never
going to be what you deserve to have.”

“If you mean I’m not good-looking enough to actually get

a guy like that, then you’re right.” David stood up and began
pacing the small space. “I know I’m boringly average in the
looks department. I’ve always known that, but…” David
stopped and turned to face Javier. “Just once I’d like a guy
that I like to like me back, you know?” Javier sighed and
nodded. “Like you have any problems in that department,”
David said, and realized he was sounding whiny. Javier
had dark skin, jet-black hair, and the deepest eyes on the
planet. “If you wanted, I bet you could model for Christian.”
He’d take Javier in a heartbeat, that David knew for sure.
Javier was just Christian’s type.

Javier put up his hands. “No thanks. I have no intention

of taking my clothes off for the likes of him or anyone else
with a camera. I want to be a fashion model, not do porn, or
even semi-porn.” Javier moved closer, and David saw him
reach out. Closing his eyes, he felt Javier’s fingers on his
temples making small, slow circles. “I’m sorry I was picking
on you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Javier’s voice
dropped and deepened, becoming a soothing balm that
worked away some of the tension that fueled his headache.
“Are you feeling better?”

David nodded slowly. He’d gotten headaches like this

for as long as he could remember. He’d had tons of tests
done, but they could never find anything wrong. Lying down
in a dark, quiet room helped. The only other thing that did
was the way Javier seemed to be able to soothe away the
pain. “We need some dinner,” David said without opening
his eyes.

“I made macaroni and cheese from my mother’s recipe

a while ago,” Javier told him, and David’s stomach rumbled
his response.

Chapter Two

Christian waited until he heard the door close and then

closed his eyes again, hoping sleep would come. Photo
sessions took a lot out of him, they always had, but lately
he’d had a hard time concentrating, and it was all because
of his new assistant, David. His previous assistant had left
three months ago, probably because Christian had driven
the man crazy. He knew that. Christian had hired David
because he seemed to have the ability to do the job, and if
he was honest with himself, because of his plain looks.
He’d hired good-looking assistants before, and all they
seemed to want was their chance in front of the camera,
figuring being his assistant was their foot in the door.
Christian was many things, including a shameless cad who
would do almost anything to get the perfect picture, but he
did not, under any circumstances, get involved with the
people who worked with him. That was his hard and fast
rule and the only one he never broke.

The problem with that rule was that his current assistant

fascinated him. They’d been working today getting the
lights adjusted before the shoot. Christian knew he’d asked
David to move the light to the left, and David had done just
the opposite, which actually turned out just the way he’d
wanted. That was a small example, but it fit the pattern
Christian kept seeing. Christian was even willing to bet that
if he were to go into the kitchen, David would have made a
small dinner for him and placed it in the refrigerator,

because he always did after a shoot. David worried about
him, and no one had done that in a very long time.

Opening his eyes again, Christian looked around his

large bedroom, its stark, white walls covered with some of
his own pictures. These weren’t the ones from his studio,
but pictures he’d taken when he went for his walks of
random faces and views others rarely paid attention to.
These photographs were personal and only for him. Getting
up, he slipped into a pair of loafers and walked into the
kitchen to heat up the dinner David had almost certainly left
for him. He ate it sitting at the small kitchen table. Once
he’d cleaned up, he opened the door to the studio, figuring
he might as well get some work done. He knew he could
work from his desk in the apartment, and before David he
usually did, but now he preferred to work at the desk David
used. Calling up the pictures from the day’s session, he
cycled through them to see which ones really captured his
attention.

Christian jumped when he heard a key slide into the

studio door. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Then he saw
David enter with another man behind him. “It’ll just take a
minute, Javier, my bag is right next to the desk.” David took
two steps and saw him, stopping mid-stride. “Sorry,
Christian,” David stammered slightly before retrieving the
bag next to the desk. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” David
had this smile that he only made when he was nervous, and
it was totally adorable, like a small boy surprised he’d been
caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You didn’t,” Christian said lightly before letting his eyes

travel to the other man. He was tall and dark-complected,
with long, black hair that seemed to shimmer in the low
lighting. Christian’s mind was already picturing how he’d
look with white rope wrapped around his chest. The
stunning man said something, and Christian snapped out of
his vision. “Sorry, I’m Christian Coulliet.” He extended his
hand, and the man looked at it with suspicious eyes before
taking it.

“Javier Mendez,” the vision answered as he shook his

hand briskly for a second and then released it almost like
he’d been burned. “Davey, we need to go or we’ll be late
for the movie.”

Christian couldn’t help noticing Javier’s hard expression

or the protective way he placed his hand on David’s back. “I
didn’t mean to bother you,” David said, and walked back
toward the studio door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” David
said brightly, and the door closed behind them.

Christian sat at the desk staring at the pictures on the

computer screen without really seeing them. That David
had a boyfriend really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to
him—he was a thoughtful caring person and deserved to
be happy. What startled Christian was the way the hurt
slammed into his stomach. He had no right to feel this way,
and yet he envied the easy way Javier touched David and
even the familiar way he spoke to him. He was jealous—
something he’d never felt about anyone in his life. Christian
closed the files he was working with and stepped away
from the desk. Wandering around the empty studio, his
footsteps the only sound in the empty room, he pulled back

the dark curtains to look out of the windows, staring at the
lights, watching people pass on the sidewalk a few floors
below.

He knew he could go out for the evening or even just

spend some time on the street with his camera, but
Christian didn’t feel like it. He didn’t want to do anything. A
soft ringing in his apartment brought him out of his reverie
and Christian walked though, picking up the receiver just
before the phone went to voice mail.

“Christian.”
“Evening, Sandra,” Christian answered. “What have you

got for me?” She was one of the best modeling agents in
the city and she was always on the lookout for talent and
faces that Christian might find interesting.

“I’m messengering the portfolios of three men over to

you first thing in the morning. Take a look and let me know
what you think.” She sounded energetic even at this time of
the night. “All three of these men were thrilled when I told
them I was sending you their portfolios. I have them lining
up to pose for you.”

“I’ll get back to you in a day or so,” Christian answered.

It had been years since Christian had had any difficulty
getting models. Being relatively famous and in demand did
have its advantages.

“What’s wrong, honey? You sound tired,” Sandra asked

as Christian heard her take a drag on the cigarette that
always seemed permanently attached to her right hand,
“and don’t tell me nothing. I’ve known you for years and you
sound like hell, so what’s going on?” Almost a decade

earlier, Sandra had been the first person to take a chance
on him, and they’d worked well together ever since. Sandra
was the closest thing to a friend he had.

“Nothing,” Christian answered, and smiled when he

heard her cough.

“You little shit. Now spill it.”
Christian wasn’t sure how to put it into words. He

certainly couldn’t tell her he was pining for his assistant.
“The work is great and I’m taking some of the best pictures
of my career, but…”

“I’ve heard what you’re doing to get those pictures, and

you know that’s going to come back to bite you in the ass,
so to speak.” She laughed at her own joke. “Seriously, I
know you’ll do whatever you need to to get the pictures you
want. That’s what makes you brilliant and your work so
powerful, but that comes at a price. And I think you’re
beginning to see exactly what that price is.” The sound of
another drag on her cigarette came through the phone. “No
one wants to date a man who spends his days fucking
gorgeous men in order to capture them in the moment of
passion. How would you feel if your boyfriend did that to
you? So you take totally amazing photographs, but you’re
destined to be alone because of it.” The phone hissed
slightly as she moved around. “Call me tomorrow and let
me know what you think, and maybe we can have lunch next
week.” She was gone before Christian could answer, and
he hung up the phone.

“You were a big help,” he muttered to the phone before

walking to the large windows that lined the outside corner of

the apartment, where he could see the entire city stretching
down the avenue. Maybe Sandra was right, and he needed
to get out. If he didn’t want to be lonely, then he needed to
find someone to spend his time with, and to do that he
couldn’t remain cooped up here. Checking the clock, he
saw it was still early, so he checked himself in a mirror,
grabbed a light jacket, and barely remembered to lock the
door heading down the stairs and into the night.

A cab ride later and Christian was standing in front of

one of the hottest gay clubs in the city. He approached the
doorman, and the huge brick wall of a man stared down at
him. These guys always intimidated Christian, and his
instinct was to back away, but instead he told the man his
name. He expected to be instructed to stand in line, but
caramel-colored man’s eyes widened and he looked
Christian over before standing aside. “I love your work,” the
huge man explained with a broad smile before letting him
into the club.

Christian thanked him and stepped inside. It had been a

while since he’d been out like this, but Christian hadn’t
forgotten the thrum of the bass as the music assaulted him
or the scent of sweat, cologne, sex, and testosterone that
permeated the place and almost immediately activated his
dick like the aroma of the gods. Moving further into the club,
he was bumped and jostled by the sheer number of men in
various states to dress as they moved and ground against
one another to the beat of the music. Christian threaded his
way to the bar and caught the eye of one of the shirtless
bartenders, ordered a martini, and waited for his drink.

Other men jostled around him, and as Christian turned to
glare at them, they seemed to back away.

“I know you,” one of the men said a bit reverently. “We

have all your books on our coffee table,” the tall, thin man
next to him said before moving closer. “Is it true you fuck the
models to get those pictures? I can really see that, because
the pictures are freakin’ hot.” He leaned closer yet. “May be
you could photograph my partner and me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t do portrait work,” Christian

stammered, becoming impatient. His drink arrived and he
paid for it with a generous tip before backing away and, he
hoped, disappearing into the crowd. Christian saw two
guys step away from a table near the wall, so he snagged
it, sitting down to watch the mating rituals of the gay male
go on around him. Sipping his drink, he thought of dancing,
but he had the rest of the evening and decided to wait a
while.

“You’re Christian Coulliet, aren’t you?” A deep voice

near his shoulder asked, and he turned. “I love your work.”
The man was tall, strong, and handsome, with great
cheekbones, gorgeous, long, auburn hair, and expressive
eyes. If he walked into his studio, Christian could see him in
a session with plenty of water cascading over those
muscles. He motioned toward the empty chair, and
Christian nodded. “I’m Blaze,” he said with a slight smile.
“Believe it or not, that’s what my mother named me.” He
leaned closer, and Christian felt a tingle go up his arm
when Blaze’s large hand enveloped his. “I know this is
going to sound corny, but I’ve never seen you here before

and I’d certainly remember you.”

Christian chuckled. It was a corny line, but Blaze’s eyes

seemed earnest and honest. “I don’t get out much.”

“From what I hear, you don’t need to,” Blaze said, his

thumb making tiny circles on the back of his hand. “I’d love
to see your studio and get a look at some of what you’re
famous for.” Blaze’s eyes bored into him, and Christian had
to bury the urge to tear his hand away.

“You seem to know all about me. What do you do?”

Christian ignored the soft caresses now that Blaze’s fingers
lightly flowed over his wrist and palm in a sensual ballet that
was surprisingly intimate. Blaze certainly seemed to know
how to keep a man slightly off-balance, because he could
feel the tingles shooting up his arm and down his spine.

“I’m a model, and I’d love to pose for you,” Blaze said

his eyes reflecting his name. “We could go back to your
studio and make some fantastic pictures together.” Now

that

sounded totally cheesy, and cut through the little

touches and the intense eyes. This was not what he was
looking for. Models he dealt with all day long, and he wasn’t
interested in working. Pulling his hand back, Christian
sipped from his glass and tried not to be too rude as he
wondered why he’d bothered to come to a place like this.

Because this is all you know.

Blaze leaned further over the table. “Or I could take

some amazing pictures of you. Lay you out on your bed,
and take pictures of you as you shiver and ache for me.”
Blaze leaned still closer, his voice lowering. “You’ve taken a
lot of pictures of men in that moment of supreme ecstasy,

but has anyone ever taken your picture?” Blaze traced his
fingers down Christian’s hand once again where it rested
on the table. “I bet you’d take amazing pictures while you
were being fucked to within an inch of your life.”

Christian swallowed hard, his heart racing, cock

straining in his pants. Blaze made it all seem possible and
he was sorely tempted. “You’re pretty sure of yourself,”
Christian gasped before draining the last of his drink. If he
wanted company, Blaze was certainly offering it.

“I know my strengths,” Blaze responded, and stood up,

displaying for Christian just what was on offer in his tight
leather pants that left nothing to the imagination, including
the bulge that stretched along Blaze’s hip. Christian set
down his glass and began to rise. “Tonight I’ll show you just
what I can do behind the camera,” Blaze whispered into
Christian’s ear, “and maybe tomorrow I can show you what I
can do in front of the camera.”

Christian stiffened as Blaze sucked on his ear, but what

had been sensual was now simply wet. This was all just a
ploy to get into Christian’s studio and in front of his
“famous” camera. “I’m feeling tired,” Christian began. “I
think I’ll just catch a cab home. Thank you for the offer, but I
think I’ll pass. I’m sure there are plenty of men here who
would jump at what you have to offer.” Christian was
already heading through the crowd, and the gap he opened
up quickly closed behind him as the dancers packed the
floor. Heading for the door, Christian had had enough. He
should have known he wasn’t going to find what he wanted
here. Instead, all he’d found was the same old thing. He

knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by Blaze, because
that’s what people came to a place like this for. That’s what
Christian had always come here for in the past, but it wasn’t
what he wanted now.

“It was my own fault,” he muttered softly to himself as he

hailed a cab and gave the driver his home address. This
entire evening had been a waste of time, and Christian let
his thoughts run as he rode. Sure, Blaze had been hot,
really hot, and maybe he could have brought him home for
some play in front of and behind the camera. What would
have been wrong with that? He really couldn’t come up with
an answer for why he’d walked away. Christian had told
himself it was because Blaze was using him. But big deal,
Christian was a big boy; he could take care of himself. The
more he thought about it, however, the more one face kept
coming to mind, and he did his best to stop it. David
worked for him, and Christian was not about to become
involved with him no matter how much David fascinated
him. Besides, the young man had a boyfriend, and while he
was gorgeous, Christian knew he didn’t want to cross the
man. The hard look in his eyes had told Christian he’d beat
the crap out of him if he messed with David.

The cab arrived at his building, and Christian got out,

paying the driver and then heading inside. In the apartment,
he opened a bottle of wine and sat in front of his windows in
one of the large chairs, watching as the lights twinkled in
the night, mulling over his behavior and what he thought he
wanted. As he stood up, the room swayed and spun
slightly. Christian walked slowly to the bathroom, cleaning

up as best he could before undressing and falling into bed,
having decided nothing except that he was going to have
one hell of a hangover in the morning.

* * * *

“Christian,” David said softly, and he slowly cracked his

eyes open. “A packet just arrived by messenger, and you
have an appointment in an hour.”

He sighed softly, his head pounding, and he made

some sort of sound that in his head was a perfectly clear
“fuck off” but must have come out as gibberish, because he
felt the side of the bed dip, and David pulled back the
covers.

“I have some aspirin for you.” David held out the pills,

and Christian slowly lifted his head off the pillow, taking the
pills and putting them in his mouth before accepting the
glass of water. David took the glass away when he was
done, and Christian burrowed back under the covers. He
knew he had to get up, but his head still hurt and his body
felt like crap. After giving the medicine a chance to work, he
slowly pushed back the covers and forced himself out of
bed.

To say that Christian felt like crap was a vast

understatement, but he kept his eyes cracked open enough
to shave, and then stepped into the shower. The warm
water helped soothe away some of the aches, and when he
stepped out to dry off, Christian almost felt human. After
dressing, he padded into the kitchen to the scent of fresh
brewed coffee. “You’re a godsend,” Christian muttered

without opening his eyes too much, since the sun was
streaming through the windows and he was so not ready for
that yet.

“Your appointment is in fifteen minutes, and I put the

messengered package in the studio for when you’re ready
to review it.” David sounded subdued, and Christian
cracked his eyes open further, noticing that the wine bottle,
glass, and the remains of last night’s dinner had all been
cleaned up. The apartment was immaculate. For a second,
Christian gazed at David trying to figure him out, but he
seemed nervous, and Christian’s mind wasn’t working so
well, so he let it go. Picking up his mug, he walked back to
his closet, slipped on his shoes, and headed into the
studio.

The lighting was subdued and Christian felt so much

better. Opening his eyes he wandered to the desk and
began reviewing his plan for the morning.

Sitting at the desk, Christian studied his schedule and

groaned, holding his head in his hands. “David,” he said
without looking up, “please reschedule the session to this
afternoon. Hopefully I’ll feel more human by then.” Lifting his
gaze, he saw David’s disapproving look, mixed with
something he didn’t quite understand but also didn’t have
the energy to figure out right now.

“Of course,” David answered softly before picking up

the phone. Christian heard him quietly reschedule the
appointment for two in the afternoon before returning the
phone to its cradle. “You shouldn’t do that to yourself,”
David told him with surprising gentleness, and Christian

heard him walk behind him. Then hands settled on his
shoulders and began to move, massaging his muscles and
instantly making the worst of his headache begin to fade. It
took about two minutes for the throbbing to subside and for
the warmth in David’s hands to soak through his shirt and
into his skin. David’s hands felt good, and Christian let his
head fall back as he let his mind float on a calm sea. It had
been a long time since he’d been touched without sex
being involved, and Christian was afraid to move for fear
David would pull away, so he sat as still as he could and
silently willed David not to stop.

He lost track of how long he sat like that, eyes closed,

body relaxed, David’s talented hands on his shoulders, but
he immediately missed the touch and the care when David
stopped. He missed being touch in such a simple way.
There was no sex involved, and nothing approaching
anything intimate, but it felt special to Christian. “Do you
want to look at the photographs from yesterday?” Christian
nodded, immediately regretting it, but forced his eyes open,
and once the room stopped spinning moved away to give
David access to the computer. “I got almost everything
sorted and catalogued, but there are some I wasn’t sure
about. Can we start with those? And then you can look at
the various groups,” David explained, and he began to click
through folders until he came to the ones he was
questioning.

“Trash,” Christian said about the first one, and David

moved it away before bringing up another. “Sultry,”
Christian said when he saw the next one. David catalogued

that one as well. When he brought up the next one,
Christian stopped short. With all the cameras positioned for
the session yesterday, it was inevitable that there would be
pictures of himself, but this one had caught him at what
must have been the height of Stavros’s passion, because
Christian could see it reflected in his expression. “Trash,”
Christian said, trying to cover his own emotions. He hated
pictures of himself and never kept any of them. David knew
that, and yet he’d made sure he saw it. Christian wanted to
ask him why, but when he peeked at David, his expression
gave nothing away as he moved the picture to trash.

Once the pictures had been sorted, David set up the

first folder to play like a slideshow, and Christian reviewed
each one, calling out the ones he wanted for articles, the
next book, or to add to his new website. When they got to
the folder that contained the photos of passion, Christian
was floored by how well they turned out. He remembered
Stavros being responsive, but the expression on his face
was powerful, and Christian heard David’s breathing
become shallower and faster. The pictures were of
Stavros’s face and chest, but what was happening was
readily apparent and extremely powerful. “These are some
of the best I’ve ever done,” Christian said softly. He hadn’t
meant to actually say it out loud, and he heard David agree,
equally softly.

“I wish you hadn’t fucked him to get it,” David said.

Christian’s temper rose, and he turned to his assistant
ready to lay into him for judging him. He even had his mouth
open, the words on the tip of his tongue, but David’s

expression stopped him cold. David wasn’t accusing him
or even chastising him. His expression was sad, confused,
and Christian thought he saw disappointment. Christian
stared with his mouth open like a fish’s before turning back
to the computer, anger just below the surface. Christian
seethed in near silence as the pictures continued to move
on the screen. He grunted his responses, and David took
them down.

Once the folder was complete, David brought up the

next. “I need to get things set up for today,” he explained
before standing up and moving away from the computer,
leaving the pad on the desk. Christian continued working
as he watched David move in the studio, pulling out the
notes Christian had made for this shoot. He watched David
strip the bedding before breaking it down and putting it with
the other props and equipment. Christian continued his
work while pretending not to watch David. Every time David
looked his way, Christian would return his attention to the
computer.

Christian went back to work, viewing almost all the

pictures from the previous day, refining his notes. Once he
was done, he looked around the studio to see how David
was progressing. David had gotten nearly everything set up
for the shoot and was bent over, positioning Christian’s
camera in just the right place. Without thinking, Christian
opened the desk drawer and pulled out a small camera,
snapping one picture of David and then another. He’d
never noticed how attractive David was. He moved with a
grace that so many people lacked. As he worked, he made

almost no sound at all, each movement deliberate and
practiced. Christian took another picture of David in profile
and then lowered the camera as David looked his way.
Christian placed the camera back in the drawer, walking to
the setup as David turned on the lights. “Looks very good,”
Christian commented as he moved around the setup. “The
model has really light skin and blond, almost white hair. So I
think we could add some pillows for a bit of color,” Christian
thought out loud before looking to the corner. “Maybe we’ll
see how it goes,” he added, changing his mind as his
vision shifted in his head. “Bring over the black rope and
leather, nothing with buckles, just black.” David began to
move away, and Christian called him back. “Before you go,
stand there. I want to check the lighting.” David slipped off
his shoes and stood in the middle of the setting draped all
in black. Christian looked through his camera and took a
few pictures before activating the remote cameras. David
didn’t move or change expression, but Christian was
having fun anyway. David’s pouty expression was adorable,
and he began losing himself in the moment. It usually took a
while for him to really get into a photo session, but with
David it was almost instantaneous.

“I’m not one of your models, Christian,” David said, and

Christian snapped out of his reverie, setting his camera
aside. “Is the lighting okay?” David asked with a raised
eyebrow, and without waiting for an answer left the area,
walking to the closet where the various props were kept,
returning with the things Christian had requested. “If you
don’t mind, I would rather not be here for the session. I have

things I need to get, including the supplies so I can print the
photographs you requested.” David checked his watch
before walking toward the door. “I’ll be right back with
lunch.” David hurried out, and Christian heard the studio
door close behind him.

Christian heard David return a bit later as he was

finishing his preparations for the shoot. They ate together at
the desk with David barely looking at him. “I need you here
during the shoot,” Christian said as he took a bite of the
salad David had brought for him. “Can you run the errands
afterwards?” David simply nodded his answer and
continued eating, but still wasn’t looking at him. “Did I do
something to make you angry with me?” Christian had tried
to discern the source of David’s petulance, thinking it might
have been the fact that he’d gotten drunk.

“No,” David answered, and he glanced up at him. “I

have a lot to do, but if you need me, I’ll be here.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” Christian pressed, setting

down his fork. “You’ve been short with me all day.” Christian
picked up his fork. “By the way, I know I didn’t thank you for
taking care of the mess from my little bender last night, but I
do appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” David replied with a bit of his usual

energy, and they continued eating. When they were done,
Christian threw away the remains, and they went back to
looking at the rest of the photographs from the previous
day’s session, now that they were organized in a logical
flow. Things seemed easy again, or at least easier, with
David, and Christian kept an eye on his assistant,

wondering just what he’d done and what he could do to
return them to the comfortable working relationship they’d
enjoyed. That was something he missed, because he’d
never had it with any of his other assistants. As they
worked, David became more relaxed, and he even laughed
a few times at some of the goofy shots Christian had
gotten, but as soon as they heard a knock on the door
announcing Christian’s appointment, the walls seemed to
go right back up.

Chapter Three

David wasn’t about to say anything—he didn’t have a

right and he knew it—but Javier had been correct. David
was falling for his boss, and he had to put some distance
between them because falling for Christian Coulliet was a
recipe for heartbreak and disaster. But what hurt was that
he was going to be forced to watch Christian with yet
another model. Yesterday he’d been blissfully unaware of
his feelings and he’d gone along on the ride with his boss,
but Javier had opened his eyes, and he couldn’t look on
that behavior the same way.

Answering the door, he greeted the medium-height,

fairskinned man with a smile. “I’m Mr. Coulliet’s assistant,
David,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Reggie Fontaine,” the blond replied, shaking David’s

hand vigorously. “This is really exciting.”

“Excellent. Christian will be ready in a few minutes. He’s

doing a last bit of setup. Do you know what’s expected?”

“Sure do. My agent explained the type of photos what

will be taken and showed me some of Mr. Coulliet’s past
work. I think I’m ready for anything.” Reggie seemed to
burst with energy.

“Excellent,” Christian said coming up behind them, and

David saw him look Reggie over. “Do you tan at all?”

Reggie laughed higher than David would have

expected, but it was definitely genuine. “No. Ten minutes
and I turn into a lobster. I once tried a tanning bed. Got so

burned on my butt, I couldn’t sit for a week. I hope that’s not
a problem.” Reggie asked seriously.

“Nope. I needed to make sure your skin tone was

consistent.” Christian explained. “David is going to put you
in some black leather and we’re going to use a black
background. I want your light skin and hair to stand out as
much as possible. Once we see how it works, we’ll play
with the light, which should give us some great effects.”
Christian was still smiling as he walked away. “You don’t
mind starting out nude, do you?”

Reggie shrugged, and David motioned toward the

screen. “Get undressed and you’ll find a robe. Once you’re
done, I’ll help you with the leather if you need it.”

“Thanks,” Reggie said with his smile still in place. Once

Reggie stepped behind the screen, David watched
Christian. He could almost feel the energy and excitement
in the room ramping up. When Reggie stepped out from
behind the screen with his robe in place, David helped him
get the leather arm bands and harness on before leading
him to the set.

“Just relax and enjoy it,” Christian said soothingly and

began to take pictures almost immediately. David knew
these were disposable and only to get Reggie warmed up.
“Remove your robe and hand it to David whenever you’re
ready,” Christian told Reggie without putting down his
camera. Reggie untied the robe and slipped it off his broad
shoulders, tossing it lightly to David. Reggie was stunning
from head to toe: glistening, smooth skin, shapely legs, a
proportional chest, powerful eyes, and a cock that made

David’s mouth water. “Give me power,” Christian
instructed, and David moved back and away, watching the
session with rapt attention as Reggie flexed his muscles,
the leather tricep bands straining. “That’s it, show me who’s
in charge,” Christian commended, and Reggie did. Naked
or not, the man exuded power and a flowing grace like
some mythological Nordic warrior god. Reggie’s eyes
burned into Christian, their power and intensity striking.
“Show me what you want,” Christian commanded, “reach
out like you’re going to take it.” David stepped back as
Reggie reached towards him, and Christian took picture
after picture.

The shoot continued and Christian had Reggie strip off

the harness and eventually the leather arm bands so it was
just his body. They experimented with color in the form of
fabric and pillows. As they worked, the sexual energy
increased as well. Reggie’s cock went from flaccid to fully
hard in the span of half an hour as he and Christian battled
for metaphorical control.

Christian was sweating as the session began to wind

down. Reggie rested on his back, on the floor mat, legs
spread wide, cock hard. “Stroke yourself,” Christian told
him, and Reggie complied, his hand sliding along his thick
cock. “You’re the embodiment of sex,” Christian told him
softly, almost intimately. “You’ll drive every person who sees
these pictures wild. They’re all going to want you.” Reggie
made small mewling noises before turning his head toward
Christian, meeting his eyes. “Come down here and fuck
me,” Reggie ordered Christian, reaching in his direction.

David closed his eyes and turned away. This was what

he didn’t want to see. Now that he’d come to accept on
some level how he felt about Christian, he couldn’t watch
him be with someone else.

“You don’t need me,” Christian said, trading out his

camera for the remote shutter control. “You can do this all
yourself. You’re a fucking god and everyone wants you.”
Reggie’s hips thrust upward, grinding his cock into his fist.
“Men want you. Women will lust for you.” The shutters kept
clicking, and David watched Christian, surprised that he
wasn’t accepting what was on offer.

Reggie leaned toward Christian, his face contorted into

almost a sneer as he bellowed from deep in his chest,
coming hard. Stomach and chest heaving, Reggie shot
over his head and onto the backdrop before collapsing
onto the floor mat in exhaustion, his hair askew, body limp,
chest and stomach covered in trails of his own come.
Reggie was total debauched decadence, and Christian
was capturing it all in film without having laid a finger, or
anything else, on the man.

David didn’t move, afraid to break the spell as Christian

took his final pictures before setting the remote control
aside. David got a cloth and towel, handing them to Reggie
before leaving the studio. He had no idea why he felt so
happy. Christian didn’t fuck all his models, although David
figured that Christian would want Reggie in the worst way.
He stayed out like he usually did, returning to the studio like
usual to find Christian sitting on the floor with Reggie, who
was once again wrapped in the robe. They were talking

quietly, and David went to the desk to begin downloading
the pictures. After talking a few minutes more, Christian
stood up and offered Reggie a hand. Reggie went to
change, and Christian entered the apartment.

David heard Reggie moving around and waited until he

came out again. “Would you like something to drink?”
David asked, and Reggie walked over to where he was
working.

“That would be nice,” Reggie told him, and David

opened the small refrigerator, handing Reggie a bottle of
water.

“You looked great,” David said, and felt himself blushing

a little. Reggie had been hot, really hot, and David smiled at
him. To his surprise Reggie smiled back. “Is there anything
else I can get for you before you go?”

“Your phone number would be perfect,” Reggie told him

with a wink, and David blushed further. “I’d love to go out
sometime, maybe dancing or just to have dinner.” Reggie
smiled at him.

“You mean like a date?” David stammered. “Not a

hookup?”

“Yes, like a date, and definitely not a hookup.” Reggie

stepped closer, and David felt his hot hand caress his
cheek. Then Reggie moved closer, tilting his head slightly
before placing a light kiss on David’s lips. “You’re a real
cutie, and I promise I’ll treat you right.” Reggie backed
away, and after taking the scrap of paper that David had
scrawled his phone number on, he shoved it into his pocket
and stroked David’s cheek one more time before walking

toward the studio door. As David followed him, he saw
Christian standing in the apartment doorway scowling at
him. Reggie waved goodbye, and David smiled and
nodded before watching him leave.

“What was that all about?” Christian asked as he

practically charged to the desk.

“He asked for my number, and we might go out,” David

answered with a grin before turning to the computer
monitor. “Not that it’s really your concern.” David added
lightly.

“What about your boyfriend, Javier?” Christian asked

with a scowl.

“Javier’s my roommate, not my boyfriend. He

sometimes gets a little overprotective, but we’ve known
each other since we were kids. Dating him would be like
dating my brother.” David made an “ewww” face for
emphasis and then went back to work. Christian stared at
him for a few seconds. “Is there something you need?”

Christian opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“No.” A few seconds later, the door to the apartment closed
with a bang, and David jumped slightly. He wondered what
had gotten into Christian. He nearly went in to ask, but
figured since he’d just chastised Christian for being nosey,
he couldn’t very well turn around and do the exact same
thing. So he continued his work.

David pretended to run the errand he’d made up earlier

to try to get away and then finished the rest of the day
processing the photos and staring at one or two of Reggie
that were off the hotness scale. There was power evident in

the pictures, but also vulnerability, grace, and beauty.
These were something else. He was tempted to make a
copy of a few of them, but that wouldn’t be right, so he filed
them all and got ready to leave for the day.

Knocking on the apartment door, he opened it and

looked around. Christian sat in one of the chairs with what
looked like a partial bottle of wine on the table next to him.

David stared at his boss, anger roiling inside him from

out of nowhere. Without saying anything, David walked to
the glass-fronted cupboard that faced the dining area.
Opening it, he pulled out a bottle of gin and carried it to
where Christian sat, obviously brooding over something. “If
you’re going to get drunk again, at least drink this. It’ll be
faster and you’ll get sicker. Just don’t miss in the bathroom,
because I’m not cleaning it up.” David set the bottle down
with a bang, and Christian’s head turned slightly, but he
said nothing. “I’m leaving for the night. The pictures are
mostly catalogued.” David turned and walked toward the
door, hoping Christian would say something, anything. But
all David heard was the sound of Christian’s glass as he
set it on the table.

David closed the apartment door behind him, thankful to

be away as his throat closed. It hurt him to see Christian
spending his nights drinking. He’d been doing that more
and more. David had lost track of the number of times he’d
thrown away empty bottles and brought Christian aspirin
first thing in the morning, and it looked like he’d be doing it
again tomorrow. Walking toward the studio exit, David
turned, looking at the apartment door once again. He badly

wanted to go back in there and ask Christian what was
wrong, why he’d been drinking so much lately. But he
couldn’t. Christian was his boss, and how he behaved was
none of his business. Leaving the studio, he began the walk
home. David’s phone rang when he was a few blocks
away. “Hello,” he said tentatively, expecting a telemarketer.

“David, this is Reggie.” A smile spread across David’s

face. “I hope it’s not too soon to call, but I was wondering if
you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow night.” He could
hear the nervousness in Reggie’s voice.

“That would be great,” David answered excitedly.

“Where can I meet you?” They settled on a restaurant, and
before David knew it he was walking up the steps to his
building. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait,” Reggie said before disconnecting, and

David entered his building, anxious to tell Javier about his
date.

* * * *

Reggie’s and David’s entrees arrived, and some of

David’s nervousness finally slipped away. “Christian is an
amazing photographer,” David said before taking a bite of
his chicken piccata. “He can pull things out of the models
that they never knew they had.”

“Tell me about it,” Reggie said with a smile on his face

and a slight blush. “I had no idea I could be that forceful, but
during that session, he had me believing I was some sort of
fierce warrior. I actually felt it during the session.” Reggie
sipped from his water glass. “And the things I said.”

Reggie’s cheeks turned ever redder. “Although you have to
admit, he does have a bit of a reputation.”

David nodded as he took another bite. “He’s so

talented, he doesn’t need to do some of the things he does
to get his pictures,” David commented. “Look what he was
able to do with you and…” David let his thought trail off and
he looked down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve monopolized
the conversation, and all we’ve talked about is Christian.”
David sighed softly as he lifted his gaze and saw Reggie’s
amazing blue eyes looking back at him.

“I understand. He’s a huge personality, and working with

him must be exciting,” Reggie said before extending his
hand, taking David’s in his. “You told me earlier that you
were a photographer yourself.”

“I am. I do mostly outdoor subjects though.” David

answered. “I love walking through the park snapping
pictures of random faces. People are fascinating as they
go through their everyday lives, and sometimes you capture
that one shot, that one face that tells a complete story.”
David sipped his water, nearly toppling the glass as he set
it down in his excitement.

“Has he seen any of your work?” Reggie asked, and

David shook his head. “Why not?”

“He’s never asked,” David answered. “Christian knows

I’m a photographer too, because we talked about it during
our interview, but he didn’t ask to see any then, and I doubt
he’s remembered it.” He was fairly certain of that. Most of
their conversations revolved around Christian or his work.
“Sometimes I wonder if he knows I exist as someone other

than the guy who makes sure he can live his life and
conduct his business,” David said with a touch of
bitterness, and he saw Reggie’s eyes widen slightly.
Thankfully, Reggie didn’t ask about it. “So did you always
want to be a model?” David asked, changing the subject.

“No,” Reggie answered between bites. “I wanted to be a

fireman. My father was a firefighter here in New York. He
was at the World Trade Center during nine-eleven. He
carried a woman out of one of the towers and was about to
go back in when the tower collapsed. He was injured pretty
badly but survived. He died a few years later because of all
the stuff he breathed in afterwards.” Reggie rubbed his
eyes. “My mother begged me to go to college and do
something else. But I was stubborn and determined to join
the NYFD.”

“What happened?” David asked.
“I found out my lungs weren’t as strong as they should

be. I had asthma as a kid, and I couldn’t pass that portion of
the physical. Even though I’ve exercised for years, I don’t
have the endurance they require.”

“So you became a model instead?” Davis asked with a

smile, and Reggie shrugged.

“I sort of fell into it. I’ve done a few commercials and a

lot of print work. I’m hoping to land a spot that will get me
noticed, and I thought posing for Christian Coulliet might
help with that.” Reggie ate a little more and then sat back.
His plate still had half the food on it but David figured
models had to watch what they ate. “Now I’m not so sure if it
will help or hurt.”

David grinned. “As sexy as those pictures were, I think

you’ll be in demand.” David finished his dinner, and when
the server asked about dessert they both declined. They
talked for a while longer until the server brought the check,
and Reggie snatched the bill, throwing David a look when
he reached for it.

Reggie signed the slip, and they left the restaurant,

walking slowly down the sidewalk together. “I had a really
nice time tonight,” Reggie said. “You were great company
and fun to talk with.”

“I had a good time too,” David agreed with a smile. “It’s

been a while since I went out with anyone on a real date.”

Reggie slid his hands in his pockets as he continued

walking. “This city seems programmed for hookups. There
are tons of bars and clubs you can go if you’re looking for
sex and fun. But if you’re looking for more than that, it can
be hard to find.” There was hopefulness in Reggie’s voice
along with a touch of what David thought might be
disappointment.

“Do you find that people want to get to know you or pay

attention to you because of how you look?” David asked as
they continued walking, occasionally shifting because of
other people coming toward them. “I mean, you’re stunning
with or without your clothes on,” David added sheepishly,
and he heard Reggie laugh. “Do you ever get embarrassed
taking your clothes off?”

Reggie’s laughter because more boisterous. “You

certainly aren’t shy once you get warmed up. To answer
your questions, I suppose that sometimes I get extra

attention because of my looks. I never have to wait at a bar
in a gay club, and I’ve had guys ask me out because of how
I look, I know that. I try not to act like that, and get to know
the person I’m with.” Reggie stopped walking. “And as you
would expect, it took me quite a while to get used to taking
my clothes off in front of a camera. But you get used to it,
and I’m not ashamed of my body. I do draw the line at doing
porn.” Reggie began walking slowly again. “Have you ever
modeled?”

Now it was David’s turn to laugh. “Me? Are you kidding?

With a face like this, no one wants to take my picture.”
David turned away, and he felt Reggie’s lightly touch his
shoulder.

“It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Remember how

you said that sometimes you find a face that tells an entire
story in a look…” Reggie said, and David nodded. “You
have one of those faces.”

“I do?” David asked, pausing slightly to see if Reggie

was kidding. He wasn’t. “What story does it tell?”

Reggie appeared to be deep in thought as they

reached the steps of David’s building. “Do you want the
truth?” Reggie inquired.

“Of course.”
Reggie moved closer, bringing his arms around David’s

back, pulling their bodies close. David’s eyes slipped
closed and he felt Reggie’s lips touch his. The kiss began
light and soft, but Reggie deepened it fairly quickly before
pulling away again. David opened his eyes and saw
Reggie’s deep blue ones staring back at him. “Your face

tells me that you’re in love with your boss and he has no
idea how you feel.” Reggie released him slowly, and David
gasped, turning away in shame. “Hey,” Reggie whispered,
“there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He reached into
his pocket and pulled out a card, pressing it into David’s
hand. “I think you’re really adorable and someone I’d like to
get to know better. But your heart is someplace else, and
as much as I’d like to see you again, I think I need to give
you the time to figure out what you want.”

David nodded slowly. When Reggie kissed him, there

hadn’t been a spark of excitement like he’d expected.
“Could we be friends?” David asked, sad that he might
have disappointed Reggie.

“Of course. Let’s get together and maybe we could take

in a game or something.” Reggie seemed okay, and David
felt better that he hadn’t hurt the other man.

“That would be cool. I like basketball.” Reggie howled

with laughter. “Football?”

Dang, he should have known

he’d get the sport wrong.

Reggie continued laughing. “I’ll get tickets to a Yankees

game, and we can watch baseball, eat hotdogs, and drink
beer.”

David tried to look offended, but ruined the effect when

he broke into a smile. “That would be great.” Reggie
continued down the sidewalk, and David hurried inside,
climbing the stairs to the apartment. Javier was out and the
place was quiet, so David turned on the television.

“How’d your date go?” Javier asked an hour or so later

as he entered with his current boyfriend/boy toy, Julio, right

behind him. David couldn’t figure out if they were really
boyfriends or the longest one-night-stand in history.

“Fine. We had a nice dinner, and then he walked me

home,” David answered as the two of them settled on the
sofa. “How’s it going, Julio?”

“Good,” he answered. The man said very little, but from

the screams he heard from the bedroom whenever Julio
stayed over and David was sleeping on the sofa, Julio’s
talents rested in other places besides conversation.

“You don’t seem very excited,” Javier pressed. “Are you

going to see him again?”

“He’s going to get tickets and we’re going to see a

baseball game as friends.” David could never lie to Javier.
Even as kids, whenever he’d tried to lie, David would find
his head under Javier’s arm, knuckles scraping the top of
his head.

“Uh-huh. This wouldn’t have anything to do with

Christian, would it?” Javier accused. “I know you think
you’re in love with the guy, but it’s all one-sided, and you’re
the only one who’s going to get hurt.”

“Javier,” Julio said, “he knows what’s best for him.”

Those were the most words David had ever heard Julio say
at one time, and they both gaped at Julio, but it seemed
he’d said his piece, and Javier giggled as Julio buried his
face in Javier’s neck. The giggles quickly turned to a soft
cry, and Javier’s eyes rolled slightly.

“We’re going to Julio’s,” Javier said a few seconds later

just before standing and trying to cover the nearly obscene
bulge in his pants as he led Julio toward the door. “This

isn’t over, and you know it.” Javier tried to sound serious,
but he jumped as Julio grabbed his ass. Once they left and
the door closed behind then, David made a mental note to
do something nice for Julio. He really wasn’t in the mood to
talk about how he felt about Christian right now, especially
because he really wasn’t sure how he felt. The man could
be thoughtful one minute and surly the next, but mostly he’d
treated David very well. It was his own feelings that were
complicating things, and that wasn’t Christian’s fault.

“Damn it,” David swore to the empty room. Life would

be so much easier if he’d felt something for Reggie and
wasn’t hung up on his boss. Reggie was nice, gorgeous,
and really seemed interested in him. Sure, they’d only had
one date, but David had already seen him naked, and after
that photo session, it definitely counted for a few dates and
maybe even as the first time they had sex. David turned off
the television and decided to go to bed. Turning off the
lights, he headed to the bathroom to clean up and then
stripped down, tossing his dirty clothes in the hamper on
the floor of his tiny closet before climbing into bed. An
ocean breeze drifted through the open window along with
the sounds of the city as he closed his eyes and tried to
sleep.

David’s mind twisted and turned, refusing to settle, and

he called up images of Reggie from the photo session.
Sliding his hands over his chest, David tweaked his
nipples, imagining it was Reggie touching him. He
caressed down his stomach before wrapping his fingers
around his cock as he thought of how Reggie had looked:

hard, thick, and long as he’d flexed his way through warrior
poses. David began to stroke slowly as he remembered
Reggie writhing on the mat, legs spread wide, stroking
himself, every muscle in his powerful body flexed.

It was Christian’s voice that interrupted his fantasy,

cutting through the images, and when he tried to refocus, it
was Christian staring up at him, eyes blazing. It was
Christian’s hands that stroked his skin and Christian’s lips
that encircled his nipples and Christian who lifted his legs
before filling him completely. David went with the fantasy as
his body overwhelmed his mind, and soon David was
panting like he’d run a marathon as he came with blinding
intensity, Christian’s name on the tip of his tongue.

David inhaled deeply, his body tingling from the

endorphin rush. Keeping his eyes closed, he let the final
seconds of his fantasy play out before opening his eyes, let
his brain process that he was still in his own small bed
rather than being held and caressed in Christian’s luxurious
one. As he came back to reality, the memories of his
fantasy and how it had changed resurfaced, and he stilled
before burying his head in his pillow. He was so completed
and royally screwed. He wanted Christian, and there was
no way he could ever have him.

Chapter Four

Christian was in the same boat this morning as he’d

been a number of times recently—lying in bed with an achy
body and head from a hangover, except this time
something was different. David wasn’t there with his soft
voice and relief. He didn’t want to look at anything, but he
knew he had to get out of bed. Pushing back the covers, he
cringed and jumped back into bed, burying his head under
the pillows as the worst noise he’d ever heard in his life
came from his kitchen. “Time to get up,” David said roughly,
but it sounded as though he were yelling.

“Leave me alone,” Christian grumbled before once

again burying his head in the pillows and clamping his eyes
closed to block out everything possible. The covers over
him went flying and he felt the bed dip.

‘You need to get up. You have an appointment in half an

hour. I’ve rescheduled enough of them over the last week
that I’m not doing it again.” A smack on his butt had him
jumping off the bed.

“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” Christian yelled

before holding his head as pain shot through it.

“Tough love,” David said levelly. “You’ve been drinking

like a fish all week, and I’m tired of pouring you out of bed.
I’m you’re assistant, not a babysitter, butler, maid, or
anything else.” David stood up and pushed open the
curtains on the windows, letting the morning sun come
streaming into the room. “You’ve been moping around for

the past week, and I’ve had it.”

Christian felt his way to the bathroom. “Who’s the boss

here anyway?” Christian sniped with a growl that he
instantly regretted.

And what happened to the sweet,

helpful man he’d hired?

David had always been helpful

and attentive, so this was totally out of character.

“This morning I am. Since I’ve been covering for you all

week, and offering excuses to everyone under the sun
because you’ve been in the bag for almost three days
straight. Besides, you stink, and have you looked in a
mirror?” David kept his voice loud, and Christian wanted to
wring his throat, but he couldn’t take his hands away from
his head because it felt like it was going to explode. “Now
clean up. I have the studio ready for today’s shoot, but you
need to look it over.” David turned away and walked toward
the door to Christian’s bedroom. “I’ll meet you in the studio.”
David closed the door behind him, and Christian winced at
the sharp sound.

“I should fire you,” he called through the closed door,

and half expected David to come back in and yell at him, so
he hurried up and showered before getting dressed and
entering the studio. As soon as he opened the door, David
handed him a large cup of coffee, and Christian sighed
under his breath, sipping from the cup before glaring at his
assistant. “What’s with you this morning?”

“I won’t work for a drunk. My dad nearly pickled himself

with alcohol. So if that’s the way you want to be, I can’t keep
working here. You’re surly, mean, and sloppy when you’ve
had too much to drink.” David drank from his own cup

before walking to his desk. “I’m serious. I’ve already had
one alcoholic in my life and I can’t deal with another.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” Christian quipped

offhandedly.

“Well I do,” David countered firmly, and Christian stared

at him, trying to figure out exactly what he meant.

Neither of them broke the gaze, neither turned away

from the other. Christian wondered if David meant what he
hoped he meant, taking a tentative step forward, but
stopping. It was just a quip, an offhanded remark. There
wasn’t any way David meant… that. But something inside
Christian wouldn’t let go. This was his chance, and if he
only got one, he wasn’t going to waste it. “Did you mean
that?” Christian asked, and swallowed, refusing to allow his
eyes to shift away from David’s no matter how much he
wanted to look away, in case David said no.

“Of course I care,” David answered indignantly. “Why do

you think I wake you up every morning and put up with your
hangovers and make dinner for you so you don’t starve?”
David’s eyes blazed. “You’re not the easiest person to get
along with, you know.” David took a step closer. “My dad
was an alcoholic, and I’ve seen what drinking can do to a
person. I don’t want that to happen to you.” The
undercurrent in David’s voice touched Christian’s heart.

“It’s been a long time since anyone really cared,”

Christian admitted as the blood raced through his veins
and the last of the alcohol seemed to evaporate from his
system. He could see clearly, in more ways than one, and
admit to himself that David had stolen his heart. Taking a

chance, he reached out touching David’s cheek, his fingers
ghosting over warm, smooth skin, and David didn’t pull
away. Christian moved closer still, stroking David’s cheek
and feeling him lean into the touch. David’s eyes drifted
closed, and Christian continued the light touching, afraid
the moment would end if he did anything else.

A knock on the door broke them apart, but David

continued smiling at him as he moved away to open the
door. Christian could still feel David’s skin against his as a
young man walked into the studio. Christian usually liked
his models a little beefier, but when he’d seen the photos
Sandra had sent over, the young man’s face had been so
expressive that Christian had to give him a try. And judging
by the way he moved, Christian knew he wouldn’t be
disappointed. “Good morning, Mr. Coulliet, I’m Justin
Lowell. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Justin seemed to
radiate excited energy in all directions as he held out his
hand.

“I’m glad you could sit for me,” Christian said, shaking

Justin’s hand. “I thought we’d…” Christian began, and then
tapered off. He’d had an idea of what he wanted to do, but
seeing Justin, he got a completely different idea. “Give us a
minute,” he told Justin, motioning toward a chair for him
before walking to David. “I want to start with a plain white
background, him in his street clothes. I have this idea that I
want to play with and see where it goes.” Christian smiled
and winked at David, who seemed confused, but then
nodded and began to set up for him. “It’ll be just a minute,”
Christian told Justin before helping David get things ready.

“What are you thinking?” David asked as they worked to

set up the lighting and background.

Christian felt sheepish. “Let boys be boys,” Christian

replied. “I think I want to try pictures of younger guys as they
are. Let them be themselves in front of the camera, playful
and exuberant. My pictures have always been high-octane,
so I thought I’d try a collection of playful and fun ones,
maybe couples together. The idea just came to me, and I
don’t know where it will lead, but I want to give it a try.”
Christian felt excited as another idea hit him. “I’d like you to
be one of the models.”

David stilled and looked at him like he was crazy.

Christian nodded his head slowly to emphasize his point.
“You’re young, expressive, and perfect.” Christian saw
David’s throat work as he swallowed hard but he didn’t
actually answer him. Rather than press, Christian called
Justin over as they finished up their work. “I want to
photograph you in your own clothes.” Christian noticed that
Justin carried a bag. “What’s in there?”

“I’m supposed to meet some friends for lunch uptown,

so I brought a change of clothes,” Justin answered
cautiously before opening the bag. It contained a pair of
dress pants and a neatly folded light blue shirt.

“Perfect. When we’re done with what you’re wearing,

we’ll have you change into those.” Christian led Justin to the
setup. “I want you to have fun in front of the camera.”
Christian’s creative juices were flowing in a torrent. “After a
while, we’ll probably move to different locations in the
building.” Christian picked up his camera and began

shooting. “What do you like to do for fun?” Christian asked,
and Justin began talking, energy flowing off of him as his
nervousness abated and excitement built, showing on his
face and in his body.

“I love playing tennis,” Justin said.
“Show me your best serve,” Christian said, peering

through the camera as Justin threw an imaginary ball and
jumped into the air. “Wonderful, return a volley—show me
your backhand,” Christian kept Justin moving, and soon he
was talking and moving on his own, telling Christian a story
that the photographer captured in images. Setting down the
camera, Christian motioned David over. “What do you
think?” David grinned and nodded. “Let’s pull the curtains
from in front of the windows and move to the corner,”
Christian told David, and David hurried to make the
changes. Christian watched as David stretched and
moved, captivating him for a few seconds. Without thinking,
Christian lifted his camera and snapped a few pictures
before directing Justin where he wanted him.

After working for an hour, he had Justin change clothes.

“Stay barefoot and don’t button your shirt. I want you to
imagine you’re getting ready for a date with the love of your
life.” They played around with that look for a while before
Christian had Justin take off his shirt. The pictures were
going to be fantastic, and as he was finishing up, Christian
got an image of David shirtless, getting ready for a date
with him. Energy coursed through Christian as he worked,
but unlike most of the shoots he’d done, this time there was
something different. He could almost feel David as he

moved through the studio. Christian couldn’t see him, but
he could feel him.

At the end of the session, Christian said goodbye to

Justin and thanked him for coming. After taking care of
some final business, Justin left, and Christian hung around
waiting for David to download the photographs, standing
behind him as he worked at the computer.

“How come you’re still here?” David asked after

stopping what he was doing, swiveling in the desk chair.
“You usually disappear into the apartment.”

Christian shrugged as he thought about what David had

said. After a shoot, he usually felt drained, but now he felt
revitalized and energetic. “Let’s see what we have,”
Christian said, rather than answering the question, mainly
because he wasn’t sure what was going on.

David called up the photos, and they began to play on

the screen. “These are amazing,” David said softly as the
computer moved through the images. “Some of the best
you’ve ever taken.”

Christian swallowed as he looked over David’s

shoulder. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes. Look at the movement and the action, the fun.

They have a very different feel from the rest of your work,
but they work amazingly well. You can almost hear him
laughing. They’re joyful.” David stopped the pictures at one
of Justin with his shirt open, looking intensely at the
camera. “That’s as hot a picture as any you’ve taken of
naked men writhing on the bed, and it’s only his face and
chest. It makes you wonder about what he’s looking at and

what’s captured his attention.”

Christian had to agree, and as David started the

pictures again, one of the shots he’d snapped of David
showed on the screen, and Christian heard David gasp.
The shot was gorgeous, and Christian reached to the
computer, stopping the image. David looked like he was
wresting with the heavy drapery, the fabric winding around
his body, encircling him almost like a lover. His shirt had
ridden up and there was a small gap between his shirt and
pants, just enough for a tantalizing glimpse of skin. “That’s
amazing,” Christian commented under his breath.

“Delete it,” David commanded without turning around.
“No. That’s the best picture I’ve ever taken,” Christian

said. “Look at the way the drapes move around you, and
the intense concentration on your face. You’re completely
innocent and unaware of how attractive you look. I just want
to lift that shirt just a little more and feel how soft and warm
that skin is.” Christian continued looking at the picture,
getting lost in it.

I want to know what he’s thinking, why he

looks so intense, and what’s just out of reach that he’s
standing on his tiptoes like a dancer

“Christian, I’m not a model,” David protested.
“Maybe not, but you take a fantastic picture,” Christian

countered, and David swiveled in the chair, his eyes
pleading.

“I don’t want the world to see how plain and ordinary I

am.”

Christian swiveled David’s chair around. “Who said you

were plain? Your alcoholic father?” Christian asked,
jumping to a conclusion that David’s tight jaw told him was
correct. “He was wrong. You have an expressive face with
huge eyes.” Christian’s voice softened on its own. “You
have a gorgeous smile that lights up a room, so whoever
said you were plain was full of shit!” Christian was probably
a little harsh, and his voice a little loud, but he didn’t care.
Christian leaned closer. “You’re an amazing man, David,
and anyone who tells you different doesn’t know their head
from a hole in the ground.”

David smiled, and Christian watched as he blinked

furiously. “You’ve had my attention almost since the day you
walked into this studio for an interview.”

“You like me?” David asked, and Christian nodded. “But

you never did anything or said anything.”

“You’re my assistant, and I thought I needed to keep a

distance. Look what I do for a living. I take pictures of
naked men, and sometimes,” Christian swallowed, “I would
fuck them to get the pictures I wanted. What could I offer
you?” Christian took a single deep breath, “I only had one
rule, and that was not to get involved with the people who
worked for me.” Christian moved close enough that he
could feel David’s breath on his lips. “And I’m about to
break that rule unless you tell me to stop.” Christian waited,
and then brought his face closer to David’s.

Their lips touched in a kiss that sent a chill up

Christian’s spine. David’s whimper told him he felt the
same thing. Christian felt David stand up and then he
hugged the younger man close, deepening the kiss as his

tongue pressed for entrance. He felt David’s lips open and
Christian took advantage. David tasted like mint and
sunshine with a hint of deep male richness that went right to
Christian’s head. Christian tightened his grip, holding
David to him, their chests heaving against one another as
they continued kissing.

Christian felt David’s hand slip under his shirt, warm

hands touching his skin, exploring his back. He desperately
wanted to feel and taste David’s skin, and he broke the
kiss just long enough to pull David’s t-shirt up and off his
body. David’s fingers made short work of the buttons, and
soon his own shirt joined David’s on the floor. Then his
arms were once again filled with David, and he groaned as
he finally got to feel the other man, skin to skin. God, he felt
amazing, and from the way David vibrated in his arms and
tried to climb him, David was just as excited as he was.
Christian took David’s pretty mouth hard, sucking on his
lower lip until it was red, swollen, and the other man panted
with need. “I’ve wanted you for months,” Christian
confessed, running his thumb over the abused lip.

Taking David by the hand, he led him through the studio

and into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind
them before making it down to the bedroom. Once inside,
Christian pushed David onto the bed, pressing him into the
mattress. David’s substantial cock pressed against his hip.
There was no doubt David wanted him, but Christian had to
be sure. “Is this what you want?” David nodded his head
and tried to kiss him, but Christian backed away slightly
before kissing David’s shoulder. “You have to say it.”

“Yes,” David moaned, and Christian smiled before

licking that special spot at the base of David’s neck. David
bucked beneath him. The small sounds David made were
like music to Christian’s ears, and he kept licking and
sucking. David was going to have lurid mark in the morning,
but the thought made Christian smile. Returning his lips to
David’s, Christian used his hands to open David’s belt and
pants, slipping down the zipper of his jeans. David groaned
softly, and Christian smiled into the kiss

“You are beautiful, you know that,” Christian said as he

slipped his hands around David’s hips, sliding them into his
pants, cradling his butt on his palms. David whimpered as
Christian lightly massaged his butt cheeks with his fingers.
Christian kissed David once again before shifting his head,
licking a trail over David’s skin before circling his tongue
around one of his nipples. David arched his back, and
Christian sucked on the now hard bud, teasing with tongue
and teeth before licking to the other. “I want to taste you. Is
that okay?” Christian asked, and David nodded his head
sharply, breath hitching. Sliding his hands from David’s
butt, he shifted on the bed and tugged off the jeans and
underwear.

Christian stopped moving, staring down at David. He

was pale and thin, but not skinny, with pink nipples and a
cock that stretched almost to his navel. He was a beautiful
sight, and Christian took him in until David began to squirm
under his gaze. Leaning forward, Christian nuzzled David’s
cock and balls with his cheek, inhaling deeply the musky,
almost herbal, intensive scent of his lover. Licking his way

up the shaft, Christian stroked David’s chest with both
hands, feeling as well as hearing David’s breath hitch when
he took the head between his lips and slowly sucked the
shaft into his mouth. David’s thick cock felt great as it slid
over his tongue, and Christian bobbed his head slightly,
wanting to make the most of this sensation.

David whined and groaned as Christian sucked him

hard and deep, his hips thrusting slightly. He was obviously
enjoying it, and Christian decided to blow his mind, so he
sucked deep and used his tongue to tease the underside of
David’s cock. The reaction was instantaneous. David’s
head and upper body came off the bed as he sucked for
air. Christian soothed him back onto the bed before
repeating the motion. This time David’s cock throbbed and
bucked in his mouth. Christian could tell that David wasn’t
going to last much longer. He was breathing too erratically,
the rhythm of his hips faltered, and his cries became more
urgent. Taking him deep, Christian slid a finger next to
David’s cock. He then pressed the wet finger to David’s
hole, teasing the puckered skin. The sensation seemed to
throw David over the edge, and his rich, salty flavor burst
onto Christian’s tongue. Christian swallowed everything
David had to give. Once his lover collapsed back onto the
bed, Christian let his cock slip from between his lips.
Kissing David hard, he let his lover taste himself.

“You’re amazing,” Christian said as he smiled into

David’s eyes.

“Look who’s talking, the man who sucked my brains

out.” David wrapped his arms around Christian’s neck,

pulling him into another kiss. Christian felt David’s legs
encircle his waist, the message regarding what he wanted
clear, and he caressed the back of David’s thighs and butt,
skimming his fingers over David’s ass. The kisses became
frantic as Christian teased the puckered skin.

“Give me a minute,” Christian said softly, letting his

voice soothe David as he reached to the bedside table.
Trying not to break the mood, he got a condom and lube,
kissing David as he returned his attention to what was
really important. “Are you sure?” Christian whispered. “How
long has it been?”

“A while,” David answered.
“What about Reggie?” Christian asked and then

cringed that he’d brought up another man at a time like this.

“We didn’t do anything except have one dinner where I

talked about you all night,” David said with a half grin that
Christian found totally endearing. Christian’s heart warmed
that David hadn’t done anything with Reggie. He hadn’t
wanted to touch anyone else since he understood and
allowed himself to face just how he felt about David.

“You really talked about me?” Christian asked.
David sighed and rolled his eyes. “Do you think we can

talk about this later?” Christian agreed and slicked a finger,
teasing David’s opening before sliding a fingertip just
inside. Christian smiled as David’s speech became
incoherent, and he pressed further into his lover. David’s
body gripped his finger and his heat intoxicated him.

One finger became two, and David’s whimpers turned

to full-on moans. “Christian, please,” David begged, and

when he pegged his gland, David let loose with a high-
pitched scream as his entire body shuddered. “I can’t wait
any more.”

Christian slowly removed his fingers from David, rolling

on a condom before positioning himself over David’s body.
Locking eyes with his lover, Christian slowly pressed into
his lover’s wet heat. David’s body was like a vice, gripping
him with head-throbbing tightness. Trying to breathe and
remain in control was tough, but Christian concentrated and
went as slow as he could, determined not to hurt David in
any way.

Breathing like a marathoner, he sank into David’s body

with as much control as he could muster, finally breathing
semi-normally again once he was buried deep inside.
David throbbed around him, and he leaned close, watching
David’s eyes as they sparkled. “I wanted this for so long,”
David confessed almost under his breath, and Christian
smiled his agreement before kissing David ravenously,
plundering his mouth as he slowly withdrew. David grasped
him, making small begging sounds that stopped as
Christian pressed forward once again. Christian moved as
slowly as he could, but his desire for this man soon
overwhelmed his control.

Christian had always dreamed the first time he was with

David would be a slow and gently lovemaking, but David
was having none of it. He met each of Christian’s
movements, driving their bodies together. “Yes!” David
gasped when Christian picked up the pace, and the last of
his control faltered and broke. Christian was now operating

on pure instinct, and David seemed to love it, his cries and
moans pulling Christian to further heights of ecstasy.
David’s eyes gleamed, his lips were kiss-swollen, and he
looked the vision of decadence as their lovemaking
continued. Christian knew what he felt, and that was the
only word that made any sense at that moment. His heart
felt as though it were being pried open in the best way
possible, but there was also a hint of fear that he pushed
aside as he forgot himself in David’s eyes and the way his
body moved and felt. Christian quickly lost himself, David’s
body squeezing him, the heat driving him.

“I’m gonna come!” David cried, and Christian felt the

grip on his cock tighten. He could barely control himself,
and then realized he didn’t need to. Letting go of
everything, he reveled in the feeling of David’s body around
him. Kissing him, Christian felt David cry out against his
lips as he came, with Christian following right behind.

Christian was determined not to collapse on top of

David, even though his body was nearly completely limp.
Letting their bodies separate, Christian settled on the bed,
with David nestled next to him. He’d wanted David for
months and now he’d had him. The problem was that
Christian had always said goodbye to his lovers after sex.
He’d never stuck around, and this time he wanted to. More
than anything, Christian wanted to roll on his side, pull
David to him, and hold on for dear life, but his fear held him
back. David seemed to be expecting him to say something,
but no words came—at least not right away.

Chapter Five

David rested in Christian’s bed, wondering what was

going to happen next. He could hardly believe he and
Christian had done what they’d just done. Rolling onto his
side, David closed his eyes before burying his face in
Christian’s shoulder, sweat, sex, and Christian’s rich
natural musky scent filled his nose, and David inhaled
deeply. He kept waiting for Christian to say something, but
he’d said nothing since their bodies separated, and David
was beginning to get the idea that Christian thought what
they’d just done wasn’t a good idea. Maybe it hadn’t been.
Maybe David had let his feelings run away with him and
Christian’s earlier words were just part of his routine.

Coloring at the thought, David waited, and then he felt

Christian kiss his forehead, and David angled his face to
capture Christian’s lips. “You were amazing,” Christian said
softly. “I’ll never forget today for as long as I live.”

“I won’t either,” David said with a smile, burrowing

closer to Christian, letting the heat from their bodies meld
together. He knew he would never forget Christian making
love to him, the first time or the eight thousandth time.

“I’m no good for you,” Christian said softly, and David

tilted up to look at him once again. “You’re one of the best
people I know and you deserve someone so much better
than me.” Christian began to move away, getting out of the
bed, his warmth fading. David watched as he pulled on his
pants before sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Maybe it’s

best if we try to forget this happened and we can go back
to the way things were before.” Christian reached to him,
lightly touching his shoulder.

David felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He

couldn’t believe that Christian was treating him like this. He
blinked a few times and tried to tamp down the
disappointment and heartache that threatened to come to
the surface. David shrugged away, feeling like an idiot.
“How can you do this?” David asked as he scrambled to
get out of bed. “You touched me, you said you’d wanted me
since you first met me, and now you treat me like this.”

“David,” Christian said softly, his voice rough, “I’m doing

this because you deserve better.”

David found his pants and began to get dressed. “If I

deserved better, then why didn’t you decide that before you
fucked me?” He glared across the mattress, stepping into
his briefs before jamming his legs into his jeans. ‘Is this
how you treated all those other guys? It is, isn’t it? All those
times I saw you with your models after a shoot, this is what
you said to them, isn’t it?” David’s anger continued to build.
“Isn’t it?” he shouted. “Well I’m not one of your models, and
you can’t treat me like this. I cared for you and took care of
you.” David leaned over the bed, smacking the back of
Christian’s head, the sound echoing through the room. “I’m
not someone you get to fuck for fun or pictures. I cared
about you, really cared.” David began looking around for
the rest of his clothes and he remembered his shirt was still
in the studio.

“It’s for the best,” Christian told him as he rubbed the

back of his head.

“Like you know what’s best for anyone. You can’t even

take care of yourself!” David accused before stomping out
of the bedroom and through the apartment. In the studio, he
found his shirt, pulling it on before Christian followed him,
which he did. David heard the door open and saw Christian
looking miserable.

“I’m sorry, David,” Christian said. “I was so wrong.”

Christian moved toward him, and David hurried away. He
had no intention of allowing Christian to touch him. He’d
already done enough. Hurrying to the desk, David grabbed
his backpack.

“Goodbye, Christian,” David said with as much dignity

and strength as he could muster before leaving the studio,
closing the door firmly. He didn’t slam it, which was
something he was very proud of, because what he really
wanted to do with rip the door off its hinges and hit
Christian over the head with it. Instead, David hurried down
the stairs and burst outside with a sense of bitter relief.
Then he stopped and looked around, wondering what in the
hell he should do.

Thankfully, David’s phone rang. He almost didn’t answer

it because it might have been Christian, but he pulled it out
of his pocket and saw Javier’s number. “Hello.” David was
determined that he wasn’t going to blubber in any way.

“What’s wrong?” Javier asked frantically, and he

continued before David could even ask how he knew.
“What happened?”

“I’m on my way home,” David managed to say before

his throat threatened to close and he couldn’t talk any more.
He’d been fine until he tried to talk about it, and now
everything seemed to be coming to the surface.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Javier told him, and David began

walking, shoving the phone in his pocket. The more
distance he got between him and the studio, the more he
was able to breathe and the more control he managed to
build. Standing outside his apartment building, David lifted
his eyes and looked up toward their windows. As he was
starting to climb the stairs, the front door opened, and
Javier burst out, engulfing him in a hug that stripped away
most of the control he’d managed to put into place during
the walk home.

Javier led him inside, and together they walked up the

stairs and into their apartment, where Javier led him to the
sofa and David collapsed onto it. David clung to Javier, his
entire body shaking, but he was pretty proud that he didn’t
break down into blubbery tears, at least not right away. “Tell
me what happened,” Javier said softly, and David
continued clinging to him, not quite ready to talk yet.

“He told me he’d wanted me since my interview,” David

croaked before clamping his eyes closed as he tried to
talk. “He said I was beautiful. He even took a picture of me
that he said was the best he’d ever taken.” David rubbed
his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“What happened?” Javier asked. “I know you’re had

feelings for him for a while and I won’t blame you for
anything, I promise.”

“At least not today.” David forced a smirk but it faded

quickly. “He…” David began, and his voice faltered. “I slept
with Christian. I fell for his lines. He told me he cared for me
and he said he’d wanted me the entire time he’d known
me.” David stood and grabbed a tissue off the old end
table before sitting back down. “I was a fool. He told me he
cared about me, and I believed him.” David blew his nose
before shoving the tissue into his pocket. “I can’t believe I
fell for his crap after all I’ve seen him do.” David wiped his
eyes.

“I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” Javier scoffed

lightly. “You’ve been fascinated with him since you went to
work there. “I always hoped you’d give it up and find
someone else. You deserve someone who really loves
you.” Javier pulled him into a tight hug. “It’ll be okay. You
don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to.”

“But I work for him,” David muttered. “And I need a job. I

can’t just quit, or we won’t be able to make the rent.” This
was a disaster. He’d really messed up everything now.

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll call Christian and tell him

you won’t be in for a few days. And if he doesn’t
understand, he and I will have words that begin with sexual
harassment. That’ll put the fear of god into him, especially
after the way he’s behaved.” Javier’s confidence sounded
amazing to David. “Go on and lay down for a while if you
want. I need to go get some things together. I won’t be gone
long, I promise.” Javier gave him another hug, and David
nodded before getting up and walking into their tiny
bedroom, lying down on his twin bed. He could still feel
where Christian had touched him, the soreness that should

have felt wonderful now a sad reminder of his mistake.

Javier came in behind him, closing the curtains to

darken the room. “These will help you relax.” Javier handed
him a pill and a glass of water. “It’s just a Valium, but it’ll
help you sleep.” David shook his head, and Javier set the
pill and water on the nightstand. “I won’t be long.”

“You aren’t going to go see him, are you?” David asked,

and Javier shook his head.

“I promise. I’d probably kill him if I did.” Javier actually

growled, and David let himself smile a little. Javier really did
care about him, and David was lucky to have a friend like
that. “Get some rest and try not to think about ‘what’s-his-
name.’ I’ll be back soon.” Javier actually leaned over his
bed and kissed him on the forehead before leaving the
room.

David listened as Javier left before lying on his back

and staring up at the ceiling. He knew he’d been a total
fool. But he’d allowed himself to fall for Christian and he
should have known that that was a recipe for getting his
heart broken. Javier had told him, and deep down he’d
probably had known it, too. He’d actually thought that he’d
be different from all the other guys he’d seen Christian with.
After all, he’d never told them he cared for them—Christian
just fucked them. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his
raging thoughts, but his body wouldn’t settle one bit.

After a while, David gave up and got off the bed.

Wandering the apartment for a few minutes—it was so
small it didn’t take long—he flopped onto the sofa and
turned on their old television.

Javier came in a while later carrying a grocery bag. “I

got us everything you need to get over what’s his name.”
Javier’s refusal to say Christian’s name made David smile.
“Ice cream, a couple action flick DVDs, some popcorn,”
Javier placed each item on the table, “and a huge container
of chocolate milk. We’ll watch movies and eat until we settle
into a good old-fashioned sugar coma.” Javier grabbed a
couple of bowls and spoons before dishing up two huge
portions. Then he placed a DVD in the player and settled
on the sofa. David leaned against him, and Javier leaned
back as they watched the beginning of the movie.

* * * *

In the early morning, David approached the door to the

studio. He’d stayed away for two days and hadn’t spoken to
Christian. He’d left a message on his voice mail and that
was all. The last two days, David had spent outdoors with
his camera, snapping pictures of whatever caught his eye,
eating from street vendors, sitting on a bench in Central
Park, watching people. He’d taken hundreds of pictures but
his heart hadn’t been in it because every time he stopped
to think, his mind would travel here, to the studio, and to
what had happened in Christian’s bed the last time they’d
been together, the things Christian had said and done, the
way Christian had made him feel. David knew he was
being ridiculous, thinking about what Christian had said to
get him into bed.

David shook his head to clear it, still standing outside

the door wondering if he could actually go inside. He told

himself for the millionth time that he needed this job and
that he would do it, but he wasn’t doing anything special
anymore, and he certainly wasn’t setting foot in Christian’s
apartment. Taking a deep breath, he inserted his key and
opened the door. Stepping inside, the room was dark and
still. Thankful that Christian wasn’t up yet. He walked to the
desk. He set his bag by his chair and booted up the PC,
figuring he might as well catalog any of the work Christian
had done in the last few days. It was his job, after all.
Looking through the folders, he couldn’t find any new
photographs, so he checked the calendar. Christian had
had one appointment scheduled. Checking the cameras,
he found the photographs and pulled them to the PC. He
barely looked at them as he began the cataloguing and
sorting process, afraid of what might be there. There
weren’t many, and what there was appeared to be the initial
shots of a shoot and then nothing. He rechecked the
cameras, but there was nothing else.

Turning on the ambient studio lighting, he found the set

area a mess of props and pillows. The bed had been set
up, but it was a mess, and it didn’t take David very long to
realize what had happened there. It appeared that instead
of taking pictures, Christian had been doing something very
different. Pulling the white sheets off the bed, David threw
them into the hamper before putting away all the props
where they belonged. At least he wasn’t going to see the
rumpled sheets and fuck pillows. Checking the rest of the
studio and finding nothing amiss, David returned to the
desk. The calendar showed an appointment that afternoon,

but nothing until then, so David reached into his bag and
pulled out the memory stick that contained the pictures he’d
taken.

On the large, high-resolution monitor, his pictures

looked better than he thought they would, and he reviewed
then, cropping some of the edges to cut things away.

“Those are very good,” Christian said from behind him,

and David jumped, closing the files and removing the
memory stick.

“I cleaned up the studio and catalogued the pictures

from your shoot,” David said evenly. “I wasn’t sure what else
you wanted me to do. I hadn’t been working on my own
pictures for very long.” David put the drive in his bag and
stood up. Christian’s scent filled his nose, and he flashed
on the way Christian’s eyes had burned into him while they
had been making… been together, and he had to get away.

“I’m glad you’re back. As you saw from the pictures, the

shoot yesterday didn’t go very well,” Christian rubbed the
back of his neck nervously. David wanted to say that from
the condition of the bed, something seemed to have gone
well, but that was none of his business. He was Christian’s
assistant and nothing more. What his boss did was his own
business. “I have coffee on if you’d like some,” Christian
offered, and David thanked him, but shook his head.

“I’m your studio assistant, and as such, my realm lies

within this room. I won’t be going into your apartment for
anything. That’s your private space and I will not be going
there for any reason. There have to be some lines and
that’s one of them.” David moved further away from

Christian, pulling open the draperies to let in some sunlight,
hoping he’d feel less trapped and nervous. “What sort of
session is scheduled for today?” he asked, turning back
from the windows. “Do you want the bed set up again?”

Christian looked a bit shell-shocked, and David kept the

smile that threatened at bay. “No. I’m thinking of just using
the white background again.” Christian looked as though he
didn’t feel particularly comfortable. “Look, David, I…”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” David said as he

got to work, purposely not looking at Christian. “You made
your feelings plain enough the other night, and I intend to
respect them. We’ll work together, nothing more.” David
was already breaking down the bed, setting the pieces
aside. Once he had it stowed, David pulled the white
background down from the ceiling until it curved onto the
floor. Retrieving the Swiffer from the closet, David dusted it
down and made sure it was perfect. “Do you want anything
for color?”

“I’m not sure,” Christian answered, and David watched

out of the corner of his eye as Christian quietly fidgeted.
David wanted to help him, but kept his mouth shut, busying
himself with making sure the background was just right.
“David, I probably should explain…” Christian touched his
shoulder, and David moved away before glaring at
Christian. He had work to do, and that simple touch felt
good, too good.

“Don’t…” David said, throwing Christian a warning

glance before turning away again. David checked the clock
and then checked it again to make sure it hadn’t stopped.

The morning was dragging on, and he could hear Christian
wandering through the studio. David really had thought he
could continue to work for Christian, but he hadn’t imagined
how difficult it would be. Maybe he should simply quit and
find another job.

After a lot of busy work and keeping his back to

Christian, he heard him walk through the studio, and then
the apartment door opened and closed. David breathed a
sigh of relief, some of the tension flowing out of his body as
he stared at the closed door from where he sat behind the
desk. David tried to put thoughts of Christian out of his
mind, but they came unbidden. David’s eyes closed and he
could feel the way Christian had touched him, the way he’d
kissed him. He felt his skin begin to tingle, and David
opened his eyes, forcing himself to replay what Christian
had told him as he’d sat on the edge of the bed and
proceeded to dash David’s hopes just when he’d come to
believe he could have the one thing he wanted most. He
forced himself to replay his hurt and the way he’d felt as
he’d pulled on his clothes before scampering out of the
apartment after Christian had treated him like… like…
David took a deep breath—like just another fuck.

David lowered his head to the desk and felt tears

threaten once again, but this time it was shame. He should
have known that Christian would treat him like this because
David had seen him act this way with dozens of men. He’d
been so stupid to think that Christian would feel anything
more for him that he had for any of the other men. Granted,
David had never heard Christian say the things to the other

guys that he had to him, but that didn’t mean much.
Christian would obviously do whatever he needed to get
what he wanted. Jesus, why was that a surprise either?

A soft knock sounded on the studio door and then it

opened. David lifted his head and saw Javier step into the
studio, looking around. “Is he here?”

“In the apartment,” David said with a remarkably steady

voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured if you hadn’t killed him yet, that maybe you’d

be ready to go to lunch,” Javier gave him a grin. “I had a
delivery in this section of town and I’ve got an hour.”

David blinked and turned away from Javier so he could

wipe his eyes before standing up. “That’s perfect.” David
grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He took
another look at the closed door and wondered if he should
tell Christian he was leaving. Instead, he wrote a note on a
sticky pad and tacked it onto the door before leaving the
studio.

Out on the street in the sunshine, he instantly felt much

better, but even so, as they walked down the street toward
the local deli, he couldn’t help looking over his shoulder and
up at the windows of Christian’s apartment.

Chapter Six

Christian was tired of looking at the same four walls, but

he didn’t want to go out. He’d made a royal mess of
everything. For the last week, David had refused to speak
to him about anything except pure business, and even then
he said as little as possible. While David had been doing
his same thorough job, nothing was going right for
Christian. Session after session didn’t work, and Christian
knew it was his fault. Nothing looked quite right, and when it
did, the pictures themselves weren’t right once he looked at
them. A pounding at the apartment door pulled him out of
his pity party and Christian got up to answer it. Pulling the
door open, he expected to see the pizza delivery man, but
instead, he was confronted with David’s friend Javier who
looked fit to kill, and since he was the only other person
around, Christian knew he was in deep shit.

“What do you want?” Christian asked.
“We need to talk,” Javier said as he barged through the

door. Christian wasn’t sure he really wanted anything to do
with Javier, but the man was already inside.

“Would you like a drink?” Christian asked as he

stopped in the kitchen, pulling out a wine glass. Javier
shook his head, and Christian opened the refrigerator,
filling his wine glass before leading Javier to the living area.
“So what do we have to talk about?”

“David,” Javier said, looking around before slowly sitting

on the sofa across from him. “I hope you realize that you

broke his heart.”

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Christian

gulped from his glass because he knew what Javier had
said was true. He’d seen the looks whenever David didn’t
know he was watching.

“No. But I’d like to beat you. David is one of the

sweetest, kindest men I have ever met. There isn’t a mean
bone in his body, and for some ridiculous reason he’s fallen
in love with you. That incredible man chose to give his heart
to you, and what did you do? Stomped it flat the first chance
you got.”

“I did no such thing.” Christian countered, nearly spilling

his wine as he placed the glass on the table. “I know we
shouldn’t have done what we did, but I told him I wasn’t
good enough for him. Don’t you think I know how I am? I
didn’t want to hurt him.” Christian sighed and slumped back
into his chair.

“You should have thought about that before you slept

with him.” Javier’s voice softened, but still held an edge. “Is
he speaking to you?”

Christian nodded slowly, “Barely.”
“You’re not alone. He doesn’t talk to anyone. When he

isn’t working, he spends most of his time sitting in the park
with his camera. I don’t know if he’s actually taking any
pictures or not, but he’s withdrawing and it’s your fault.”
Javier glared at him. “You need to do something.”

“What do you suggest? I’ve tried to talk to him, but he

cuts me off unless it’s about the details of a shoot or how I’d
like my photographs cataloged.” Christian shifted in his

chair, reaching for his glass before taking another large
gulp.

“What is it you want to say to him? Do you feel anything

for him, or is he right and you were simply trying to get into
his pants?” Javier moved so he was sitting on the edge of
the sofa cushion. “And I’ll warn you, if this was just a sex
thing, I’ll smack you right here and now. For some reason
that man loves you—not that you deserve it, but he does.
And you need to either tell him that you feel the same way
or let him go from all areas of your life. It’s not fair to keep
stringing him along.” Javier glared at him, and Christian felt
distinctly uncomfortable. When Christian opened his mouth,
Javier cut him off. “Don’t tell me—tell him. I don’t really like
you. I’m only here because David is my best friend and I’m
hoping you’ll have the decency to let him go.” Javier stood,
and Christian could almost see the large man puffing
himself up before looming over him. “No matter what you
decide, I will tell you this: if you hurt him again, so help me
god, I’ll beat you to a pulp. He deserves someone who will
love and treasure him.” Javier stared into Christian’s eyes
for a few seconds, chilling him to the bone before moving
away. “Whatever you decide, just do right by him.” Javier
walked to the door, pulling it open, and Christian saw a
surprised delivery man. Javier stepped around him and
disappeared as Christian pulled himself out of his thoughts
and got up to pay for the pizza.

Shutting the door, Christian carried the box to the

counter, standing there to eat his dinner. Javier had been
right, David deserved to be treated like the special person

he was, and Christian needed to be honest and tell David
how he felt. He’d been miserable for days, they both had,
and it was within his power to put a stop to it. Pulling out his
phone, Christian looked up David’s number and was about
to press connect when he closed the phone again, shoving
it back into his pocket. David deserved to hear what he had
to say in person, directly from him. He wasn’t going to take
the coward’s way out. He’d done that often enough.

Christian finished his pizza, throwing the box in the

trash, before hurrying into the studio. He had plenty to do
and not a lot of time to get it done. Christian knew he’d
made a mess of things and it was about time he cleaned it
up. He knew what he wanted, now he just had to figure out
how best to show David. He was a photographer—he told
stories with pictures. Now it was time to tell the most
important one of his life.

* * * *

Christian waited impatiently in the studio the following

morning. He’d been up most of the night working and finally
had everything just the way he wanted it. As he waited,
Christian took one more look around, happy with how
everything looked.

He heard footsteps outside the studio door and he

tensed, expecting to hear David’s key in the lock, but that
didn’t happen, and the footsteps retreated down to the door
of the other studio. So he continued to wait, checking the
clock every few minutes and looking out the windows to
watch the sidewalk. A full hour later, Christian finally heard

footsteps approaching, and then the key slipped into the
lock. Hurrying across the floor, Christian opened the
apartment door, intent on going inside, but stopped himself.
Good or bad, he needed to see David’s reaction. He’d
hidden behind his own bravado and cowardliness for too
long. Closing the door, he turned around and waited.

David entered the studio and walked over to the desk

without turning on any of the lights. Christian watched as he
booted up the computer, the light from the monitor
illuminating David’s face. Christian didn’t move, and simply
watched David work for a while. He’d done this a few times
before, but this time he realized how fascinating David was
and how close he’d come to losing him because of his own
stupidity and fear. The clicking of the keyboard filled the
room as David worked. After a while, Christian became
inpatient and almost said something, but he knew he
wanted David to see what he’d done naturally and
unexpectedly, so he continued to wait, leaning against the
door.

Christian’s eyes had drifted closed when he heard the

wheels on the desk chair roll back and then footsteps.
Opening his eyes, he waited, and then the lights flipped on.
Christian heard a sharp intake of air as David gasped.
Christian watched as David moved around the studio,
looking at the pictures Christian had hung from every wall
and pillar. There were even some suspended from the
ceiling girders. “Where did these come from?” David
asked softly.

“I took them when you weren’t looking,” Christian said,

and he heard David squeak in surprise. “See, here’s you
working at your desk. See your tongue between your teeth.
You always do that when you’re puzzled about something.
Then there’s this one with your eyes narrowed. That’s your
‘’disgustedly bemused with Christian’ face. I don’t
remember what I’d done, but I’d do it again to see that
expression.” Christian moved to yet another photograph,
this one larger than most of the others. “This is your ‘so
happy you forget to censor yourself’ face. I don’t get to see
this very often. It’s sort of an endangered species and I’d
like to make it breed and multiply, because it’s one of the
most beautiful.” Christian took David’s hand and tugged
him toward the largest picture of all. “This is my favorite,
though.” Christian pulled aside one of the curtains that hid a
huge picture of David’s face. “This one was by pure
accident. We took it months ago while I was photographing
that blonde porn star. One of the remote cameras was
angled wrong, or in this case just right, because it captured
your face a few times.” Christian stepped back, amazed at
the desire and passion that showed in that one image. “I
wish I knew exactly what you were looking at.”

David shifted his gaze from the picture to Christian. “I

was looking at you.” David’s eyes traveled around the
room. “Why did you take all these?”

“Because you fascinated me,” Christian explained. “You

did since the first afternoon when you walked in here for the
interview. I’ve had other assistants, and they assisted, but
you sort of came in here and well… moved in. It took about
a week and you were coming into my room to wake me up

and remind me about appointments. You’d clean up after
me when I drank too much trying to forget the feelings I had
for my assistant. Feeling I knew I shouldn’t be having but
couldn’t turn off.” Christian turned toward the far wall where
he’d hung dozens of candid photographs of David. “I
actually went out to the clubs a few weeks ago and this
really tall, built guy wanted me to bring him home, but I
couldn’t.”

“Why not?” David asked tentatively.
“He wasn’t you. I was talking to him but comparing him

to you. When I would fuck one of the models, I was telling
myself it was to get the picture I needed. It was easier and
there were no strings. They were happy, and I got the
pictures I wanted. I could even delude myself into thinking I
was happy, but I wasn’t. At least not after you came waltzing
through my studio door and turned everything on its ear.”
Christian’s words had come tumbling out, and he stopped
as he watched David’s expression turn to confusion.

“Then why did you say all that stuff the other day?” David

stayed where he was, even taking a step backwards.

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I’ve never had any sort of

relationship other than sex. I went out and met guys, and
being an erotic photographer, the guys even came to me. I
figured that I would hurt you if you stayed, and that was
exactly what I did.” Christian sighed and looked around the
room, realizing it was now or nothing. “I was scared, okay?”
Christian admitted. ‘What if I’m no good at this relationship
thing? What if we try and I still end up hurting you and
getting hurt myself. Fucking I can do, I’ve had lots of

practice, but loving someone and taking care of them, that I
don’t know shit about.”

“It’s simple, Christian,” David said, taking a step

forward. “You just follow your heart.” David stopped, and
Christian saw him chewing lightly on his lower lip, worry in
his eyes. “What is it you’re saying with all this?” David
waved a hand around the room. ‘If you did this as some
grand gesture so I’ll forgive you, then that’s fine. I forgive
you. But you need to tell me what you expect.”

Christian moved closer, taking David’s hand. “I don’t

know what to expect. I already messed up once, and I have
no idea what I’m doing.” Christian confessed. “I just know
that I’ve missed you and I want you to come back.”

“What is it you’ve missed?” David asked, and Christian

felt him looking into his eyes. “Because if it’s just someone
to wake you up and pick up after you, I suggest you hire a
maid.”

“I missed you.” Christian smiled. “I missed you coming

into my room to wake me up in time for an appointment. I
missed seeing your face first thing in the morning, and I
want that to be the first thing I see every morning and the
last thing I see at night.” Christian felt the words tumble out
of him before he could stop them. “I want to take pictures of
you each day until we’re both old, and maybe if I show you
all of them you’ll believe that you really are beautiful. And I
want to tell you that I love you, and have you know, not just
believe, but feel and know without a doubt, that I mean it.”

“Is that why you did all this?” David asked, looking

around for a second.

Christian nodded. “I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told

you with words, so I wanted to say it with pictures,” he
confessed, and then stilled as he watched David and
waited. There was nothing more left to say. Christian had
put all his cards on the table, and now it was up to David to
decide if he believed him or not. Truthfully, Christian knew
he wouldn’t blame David if he didn’t.

Slowly, Christian shifted from foot to foot, watching

David’s face, and then he saw the beginnings of a smile
that continued to build, and he knew. When David stepped
closer and into his arms, Christian was on top of the world.
Petting David’s back, he felt his arms around his waist,
hugging tighter and tighter. Then David tilted his face to
Christian’s, tugging him into a kiss that stole Christian’s
breath away. Returning the kiss, Christian cupped David’s
head in his hand, deepening the kiss. Christian almost
couldn’t believe David was once again in his arms after
he’d made such a mess of things.

After kissing for a long time, Christian simply held

David, relishing having him close and being able to hold
him in his arms. Christian knew what he wanted to do, and
part of him screamed to take David out of the studio and
into his bedroom. He could tell David had the same idea,
but he forced himself to step back.

Christian lightly touched David’s cheek, freshly shaved

skin caressing his palm. “No rushing this time,” Christian
explained. “Besides, I believe we have a photo session to
get ready for this morning.”

David looked confused and walked to the desk.

“There’s nothing on the calendar.”

“I know. They got booked at the last minute.”
“What should I get set up?” David asked already moving

away to get things ready.

“Nothing. We’re going to the park today.” Christian said

with a smile as he packed up the camera. “You’ll need your
camera too.”

“Why?” David asked suspiciously.
Christian smiled and waited until David’s curiosity got

the better of him. “Last night while I was printing and
hanging all these pictures of you, I got inspired. I’ve been
building a library of photographs and I’ve decided to put
together a different sort of book. It’s going to be called

The

Boy Next Door,

and I even have my cover.” Christian

walked to the photograph of David watching him. “But
there’s a problem: I need a few more pictures of this
incredible man and I was hoping he’d let me take them.”

“I’m not a model,” David said, and Christian looked all

around the studio.

“You don’t have to be. All you need to be is you. I

promise.” Christian smiled before tugging David toward
him, kissing him gently.

“Why do I need my camera?”
“You’re a photographer, and I want to take pictures of

you as a photographer, just like I took pictures of the tennis
player. I have plenty of photographs of you working around
the studio, so now I want to take photographs of you taking
your pictures,” Christian explained before moving toward
the studio door, holding it open for David as he carried his

camera bag.

On the street, Christian hailed a cab, and they rode to

Central Park. “What do you want me to do?” David asked
as they got out, walking past the Plaza Hotel before
entering the southern edge of the park.

“Anything you want. Take your pictures, wander through

the park. All you need to do is pretend I’m not here.”
Christian grinned as David took his camera out of its bag,
handing the bag over to Christian to carry along with his
own. Then he was off, and Christian wandered behind,
watching David as he knelt to take a picture. Christian lifted
his own camera and took picture after picture of David as
he lined up his shot. Once David had it, he turned to look at
Christian with a grin on his face, and he caught that as well.

For the rest of the summer morning, they wandered

through the park, taking pictures. Christian fell behind, and
David seemed to forget he was there. As the heat built,
David pulled off his t-shirt, shoving it into his back pocket.
Christian smiled as he caught a photograph of a shirtless
David, skin glistening in the sun, jeans hanging low on his
hips, his camera around his neck, watching sailboats on
the boat pond. The shot was gorgeously sexy, and at that
moment, Christian wanted to run to him and drag David
back to the apartment and into bed. But he didn’t.

At lunch time, they ate from a vendor. “Did you get any

good shots?” David asked after swallowing a mouth full of
hotdog.

“Yes,” Christian answered after swallowing his own bite.

“Did you?”

“I think so.” David sipped from his can of soda. “I’m

never really sure until I look at them. Sometimes I think I
have a great shot and it turns out terrible, and then
sometimes there are the surprises.”

“We all get those. It’s what every photographer lives

with. The uncertainty is what makes the pictures special.”
Christian finished his hotdog and waited while David got
another. Once they’d eaten, they continued their trek
through the park. Christian knew he had plenty of pictures
for what he needed, but David was still so excited that they
continued to the Great Lawn and Belvedere Castle.
Christian began to wander, taking his own photographs just
for fun. A few times he caught David being goofy, and he
snapped a picture like a tourist. As they continued,
something changed for Christian, and he tried to remember
the last time he’d simply taken pictures for fun.

“Are you ready to go?” David asked as he raced across

the lawn, skidding to a stop just in front of Christian.

“Are you?” Christian replied, and David nodded as he

grinned, and they walked together toward one the avenues
that lined the park so they could catch a cab home.

“Do you really want to use me in one of your books?”

David asked as they rode back toward the studio.

Christian smiled broadly. “Yes, and I really do want you

for the cover.” They rode quietly back to the studio, getting
out of the cab and hurrying upstairs. Christian placed his
bag by the desk and immediately headed into the
apartment. He needed to clean up, and he expected David
to follow, but he didn’t hear him. After listening for a few

minutes, he returned to the studio, finding David hard at
work at the computer, downloading and looking at his
pictures. Christian couldn’t stop a smile. He remembered a
time when he, too, was so excited about his own pictures.

Quietly, he reached for his bag, pulling out his camera

and snapping a few pictures. The sound of the shutter
interrupted David, and he turned toward Christian. “Sorry. I
just wanted to look at these.”

“It’s okay. I’m going to take a shower,” Christian

explained as he put down his camera and walked toward
the apartment door. “You know, I have a big shower, and
there’s room for two.” Christian left the door open and
walked into his apartment. It took about thirty seconds
before he heard the rush of feet, and when he turned
around, he was squeezed and kissed within an inch of his
life, and neither had ever felt better.

Christian led them to his bathroom with its large shower,

and once the door closed, it didn’t take long for them to get
naked. Christian turned on the water to warm before
stepping under the spray and tugging David in with him.
The shower door closed, and Christian didn’t know quite
where to start. He stood watching the water run down
David’s skin. Capturing his lips, Christian pulled their
bodies together, skin to skin, his hands sliding down
David’s back, cupping his perfect butt in his hands.
However, David seemed to have other ideas, because
Christian quickly found himself pushed, backside pressed
against the tile, David’s skin sliding along his. “You like
that?” David asked, and Christian whimpered as his cock

slid along David’s wet skin. David continued slipping lower,
his chest pressing on Christian’s cock. Christian lowered
his gaze just in time to see David open his mouth, sucking
his cock between those sweet lips.

His head banged back against the tile as the breath

shot from his body when David took him deep. Wet heat
surrounded him, and he felt David’s throat muscles work
him into a near frenzy. David’s hands kept his hips pressed
back against the tile, and he couldn’t move as David
bobbed his head, the pleasure completely out of his control.
Christian’s breath heaved as he tried to govern his own
body, his head spinning and legs shaking, the urge to thrust
so great. He could already feel the pressure building in his
balls, and then David’s mouth moved away. Christian
gasped in a high-pitched whine.

“Turn around,” David said, and Christian was too far

gone to do anything but comply. “Hands on the tile, and
move your legs apart,” David added in a whisper before
sucking on his ear. Christian’s hands rested on the tile, his
fingers splayed as he felt David’s hands stroke his back
and then down to his butt, pulling his cheeks apart. He was
about to tell David where the condoms were when he felt
David’s tongue slide down his crack and then zero in on his
opening.

Christian thrust his butt back into the sensation as he

moaned. David’s tongue went deep, and Christian felt his
lips nibble lightly on his tender flesh. “Jesus fucking god!”
Christian cried out, his voice echoing in the small, tiled
room. He could hardly catch his breath as David ate his ass

while deft fingers slipped in and out of his body. At first he
resisted, but within a matter of seconds, Christian was
flying on wings of pleasure and he forgot everything but
David’s touch and the searing heat of his tongue.

When David moved away again, Christian wagged his

ass, moaning at the loss of sensation. A hand stroked the
skin of his butt as the shower door opened and David
leaned out. The door closed again and a few seconds later,
he felt slicked fingers slide into his body. “Yes!” Christian
hissed.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you? I want to be inside

you so badly I can’t stand it.” David’s hands stroked his
back as his words wrapped around him, making him shiver
and shake with excited anticipation. The water sluiced
down his back, and Christian thought he heard a package
tear. Then he felt the head of David’s cock at his opening,
and arms encircled his chest as David pressed into him.

Christian gritted his teeth as he was stretched in a way

he hadn’t been in a while. Breathing shallowly, he let David
hold him as their bodies connected. David stopped and
then pressed forward again. The pain subsided and his
muscles stretched, David filling him. He felt David’s hips
against his ass, and all movement stopped. David
tightened his grip around his chest, and Christian felt
David’s lips kissing his shoulders. Christian caught his
breath, his muscles gripping the thick cock inside him. “You
feel so good around me,” David whispered before teeth
lightly scraped over Christian’s shoulder. “Like a furnace of
intensely tight heat.”

“Fuck me!” Christian gasped, and he felt David move

slightly inside him. The back and forth movements were
small, but he could feel David’s cock rubbing that spot
inside him, and he leaned back into David’s arms, his head
resting on David’s shoulder. Fingers plucked his nipples as
David increased the pace of his thrusts, stretching his
opening.

“You’re going to scream for me, Christian, and once you

do you’ll know just how much I love you.” David snapped his
hips, and Christian gasped and saw stars. Christian
braced himself against the tile. David fucked him hard,
fingers gripping his hips, and Christian’s moaning turned to
groans, and then morphed into cries that reverberated off
the walls. He could barely think as he stroked himself,
resting his head on his arm as David took him to Nirvana
and back. Christian felt his release rising from deep inside
him as David’s movements became erratic. They were
both close, he could feel it, and Christian felt David slam
into him, his cock jerking deep in his body. Stroking hard,
Christian reached the precipice and then tumbled over,
coming in a blinding wave over the tile.

Cooling water brought him back to reality. Christian

moved slowly, feeling David retreat from his body. Turning
him around, David held him tight as they moved beneath
the water, rinsing themselves down before David turned it
off. Christian stepped out of the shower, handing David a
towel. They dried themselves and took care of the towels
before Christian led David into his bedroom, pulling back
the covers. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Yes,” David answered as he curled next to him. “I love

you.”

Christian hugged David close. “I love you too.” Christian

expected them to settle for a nice nap, but David jumped
out of the bed. Christian watched his naked butt as he
hurried out of the room. He heard the studio door open, and
after a few minutes, footsteps hurried back toward him.
When he came into the room, David launched himself onto
the bed.

“I have to show you this,” David said, and handed him a

printout of a photograph. “I have an idea for a series.”
Christian looked at the image as David climbed under the
covers, curling next to him. It was a picture of him as he
took a photograph of the buildings around the park from the
tangled marble bridge across the lake. As he looked at the
printout, he could see the beauty David had captured even
as his lover began nibbling on his ear. “I’m going to call it
Images from the Photographer’s Assistant.”

The Arrangement

by Ryan Field

Chapter One

In l962, if a man was attracted to another man, he was

considered a homosexual in clinical terms. In more realistic
everyday terms, men like this were considered queers,
fags, pansies, deviants, and perverts. Among other crude
references, which ranged from pillow-biter to corn-holer,
depending on how graphic someone wanted to be, men
who were even remotely attracted to other men were, in
essence, sick freaks of nature and societal outcasts. And if
a man fell in

love

with another man, he was one step

beyond royally screwed. In other words, there wasn’t much
hope.

Toby McFarlane didn’t think of himself as a freak or a

pervert, at least not deep down inside where it really
mattered. Though he wasn’t sure two men could fall in love
with each other, he didn’t discard the concept, either.

It wasn’t until he graduated from college and realized his

attraction to men wasn’t a stage. When he finally decided to
stop fighting his feelings and learn to live with them. And
even that wasn’t easy. He never went a day without feeling
anxious or worried that someone would figure him out. He

was always looking over his shoulder, making sure he
didn’t make the wrong gestures or give anyone the wrong
look. So he did the best he could to blend in with everyone
else, which seemed to be the safest way to live his life.

In the summer of l962, right after he graduated from the

ultra conservative Drew University in New Jersey, Toby
moved to New York City. It seemed like the best thing to do.
He took a small apartment in midtown Manhattan on the
fourth floor of a building that had once been a large single
family home. He figured moving to New York would be safe
and there would be more men like him in an urban
environment. He knew there were more men like him; he’d
read about them and heard about them. But he just wasn’t
sure how…or where…to meet them. There had to be a way
to search them out, and he was determined to do it.

A week after he moved to New York he went on an

interview. They offered him the job that day and he
accepted it with a huge smile and his strongest, manliest
handshake. The next Monday he went to work as an
assistant art director for Johnson, Frederick, and Lindsay
Advertising, Inc, where he fell into a comfortable routine. It
was the golden age of advertising and Toby couldn’t have
asked for a better position. He wore dark suits and white
shirts to work, with skinny solid ties, boxer shorts in pastel
colors, and always white undershirts. On his feet he wore
black Thom MaCan’s he had shined once a week by an old
man named Otis in the lobby of his office building on
Madison Avenue. He ate lunch at Horn and Hardart and
ordered cheap Chinese take out three times a week. On

weekends, he took long walks in central park and rode the
bus to Newark, NJ, so he could shop in

Bamberger’s,

because he thought it was cheaper than

Macy’s

. On the

third Saturday of every month he rode the subway
downtown to little Italy to maintain his short dark hair. The
barber on Mulberry Street, between Defazio’s Bakery and
Orritelli’s shoe repair, only charged three dollars. In those
days, Toby’s ninety dollar a week salary wasn’t considered
terrible, but he’d learned how to stretch a dollar and make it
last.

When Toby walked to work in the morning, he looked

just like all the other men on the street. He even wore a dark
felt hat and a baggy beige raincoat during inclement
weather. The only thing that ever really set him apart from
the other men was that he often carried a large portfolio to
the office instead of a briefcase. Sometimes he took work
home, especially when he was working on an advertising
campaign that needed extra attention. When he was inside
the office among his peers, no one would ever have
guessed he was more interested in the cute young guy who
brought the mail up at eleven every morning than he was in
the shapely blond receptionist in the front waiting area. That
is, no one except for Brad Lindsay, one of Toby’s bosses
and the third and youngest partner in the advertising
agency.

Brad and Toby were both in their twenties, both thin and

attractive; both had similar hair cuts and wore similar suits.
If Toby’s hair hadn’t been a few shades darker than Brad’s,
they could have passed as brothers. The only real

difference between them was that Brad was married to
Carl Frederick’s daughter, Misty, and had been made a
junior partner the day after his wedding. Toby was single
and considered a bachelor.

They weren’t men who should have been close friends,

and wouldn’t have been if something hadn’t happened one
Friday evening the first autumn Toby worked there. Toby
had stayed late at work on a project that had been
bothering him. He was the new guy in the office and he
wanted to impress his bosses. He’d been trying to come up
with a new slogan for a baby food company and he’d been
working so hard that day his head was pounding. He’d
forgotten to eat lunch and had lost track of time. When he
finally took a break to go to the men’s room, he ran into
Brad Lindsay at the urinals. Brad was standing there
leaning back, with his legs spread wide and one hand on
his penis. He glanced at Toby and sent him a cocky smile,
and then started to whistle a tuneless song that made the
short hairs on the back of Toby’s neck stand up.

Toby returned the smile and took a quick breath. He

regained his composure and tried to act casual. He usually
avoided the men’s room at all cost because it made him
feel awkward and out of place. He’d never been a man’s
man in the sense that he didn’t know how to talk about
sports and dreaded it when other men started talking dirty
about women. But he didn’t have a choice now. If he left
without doing anything he would have looked peculiar. So
he walked up to a urinal at the opposite end of where Brad
Lindsay was peeing and pulled down his zipper. Toby’s

hands felt a little shaky and his heart started to race. Brad
continued to whistle; he took his time and remained in front
of the urinal far longer than he should have.

Toby pulled his penis out of his pants and glanced

down. He didn’t look sideways and he concentrated on
what he was doing. But he felt his ears getting red and his
heart had begun to race. If he’d known Brad was in there he
would have waited another fifteen minutes.

Then Brad caught him off guard. He smiled and glanced

in Toby’s direction again. “Working late tonight?”

This was the first time Toby had actually encountered

Brad Lindsay up close. He’d nodded hello and smiled at
him in the elevator. But he’d never actually been face to
face with him alone. Toby froze; he gulped and said, “Ah
well, I’m working on the baby food campaign.”

Brad laughed. “Oh, you poor sucker. I heard all about

that son of a bitch. He’s one of the worst clients we’ve ever
had. It’s impossible to please him.”

Although they were about the same age, Brad was

Toby’s boss and Toby knew he had to treat him like a boss,
not a buddy. He’d watched the way other people treated
Brad: with great care. “I’ll figure out something that will
make him happy, Mr. Lindsay. You can count on that.” Toby
was ambitious. So far, he liked working there. And he knew
he could only depend on his work ethics and his talents to
get ahead because there was no way he’d ever marry the
boss’s daughter. Toby had overheard the office gossip.
They laughed and said Brad would have been working in
the mail room if he hadn’t married old man Frederick’s

daughter.

“I’m sure you will,” Brad said, with a deep, smooth

voice. “I’ve heard excellent things about you.” Then he
stepped away from the urinal without zipping up his pants.
He turned toward Toby and took a few steps in his
direction.

Toby finished what he’d started and he zipped up his

pants. But when he turned and saw that Brad’s dick was
still hanging out of his dark gray suit pants, he gulped and
swallowed hard.

Brad crossed over to where Toby was standing and

said, “I’ve been watching you for a while, Toby.” His dick
was still hanging out of his pants: semi-erect now. He
reached out and placed his palm on the small of Toby’s
back without warning.

“Ah well, Mr. Lindsay,” Toby said. He continued to stare

down at the urinal. His fists were clenched so Brad wouldn’t
see them shake and it felt as if all the blood in his body had
rushed to the top of his head.

Brad rubbed the small of Toby’s back and said, “Please

call me Brad. We’re almost the same age. Like I just said,
I’ve been watching you and I think we might have a lot in
common, if you know what I mean.”

Though he’d been confused at first, Toby definitely knew

what Brad meant now. This wasn’t the first time something
like this had happened to Toby in a men’s room. Once,
during a road trip to the Finger Lakes to visit his Aunt Nan,
Toby had stopped at a truck stop to relieve himself and a
trucker had made the same advances. Another time, in the

men’s room at Drew University, a theology student had
followed him into a stall. And then there’d been the time in
the bowling alley in Queens, with a young guy who looked
like Joe DiMaggio. But Toby never expected this from Brad
Lindsay…his boss. And in the men’s room right there in the
office. So he took a deep breath and said, “You’re
married.”

Brad shrugged. “That’s doesn’t mean I can’t have a little

fun with a nice guy.” He moved forward and started to rub
his crotch up and down Toby’s right leg. “And you are a very

nice

guy from what I can see.” Toby didn’t have to look

down to know that Brad was fully erect by then. He could
feel the hardness pressing into his thigh. “Besides, we’re
the only two in the office now. I locked the doors in such a
way that no one else can get inside. Trust me, I have a lot
more to lose than you do.”

“Are you sure we’re all alone?” He wondered how he

could have locked the doors so no one else could get
inside. But he didn’t ask.

Brad rubbed harder. “I’m positively certain, trust me.”
Toby took a deep breath and turned to face him. Brad

was grinning now; his hand had gone down and he was
squeezing Toby’s ass. This encounter with Brad wasn’t
something Toby would have gone looking for, and he’d
certainly never expected it to happen. But he hadn’t been
with a man this way for six months. And Brad was an
exceptionally good looking guy. So Toby reached down,
grabbed Brad’s erection, and said, “I’m very discreet.”

Brad leaned over and kissed his neck. He squeezed his

ass harder and said, “I’m just as discreet as you are. You
don’t have to worry. As

you

pointed out, I’m a

happily

married and I’d like to remain that way. But I don’t see why
we can’t become better friends, especially since we have
so much in common.”

Toby blinked. “Friends?”
“Very discreet friends who can trust one another

completely. You do me a favor; I’ll do you a favor.”

“I see.”
“I hope so. I don’t really have anyone I can trust.”
“Well.”
Brad licked Toby’s earlobe and whispered into his ear.

“Can I trust you? I promise you can trust me.”

Toby stroked Brad’s cock gently and smiled. It felt so

smooth and warm in his palm he almost gasped. Toby
didn’t know any men like himself in New York. He didn’t
have anyone he could trust either. And the only time he was
ever with men like himself was when he ventured downtown
to a little private basement bar in The Village he’d read
about in an underground newspaper. And even then they
weren’t really like him: they wore loud colors and talked like
women. They leered at him and made him feel awkward
when they whispered behind his back. He usually wound up
leaving before he’d finished his first drink. So he released
Brad’s dick and unbuckled his own pants without saying a
word. While his heart pumped, he pulled down his zipper
and then yanked his pants and his boxer shorts down to his
knees at the same time. Then he set his palms on Brad’s
chest and sighed.

chest and sighed.

When he did this, Brad moved forward and rested both

hands on his bare ass. Toby closed his eyes and took a
breath. He’d forgotten how much he liked to be touched this
way by a man. While Brad squeezed and fondled him, he
felt a rush and fell into Brad’s strong arms. Toby squeezed
the muscles in Brad’s upper arms and rubbed his cheek
against the fabric of Brad’s silky gray suit jacket. He
squeezed Brad’s shoulders and ran his palms up and down
Brad’s back. Being with a man this way sent shivers
through his entire body, especially a real man like Brad.
And he did this mainly because it happened so infrequently
he had trouble containing his natural instincts.

But Toby also knew this wasn’t going to be a love affair

or an emotional experience that he’d recall for the rest of
his life. This experience with Brad Lindsay would be the
same as his encounter with the rough trucker at the truck
stop and the hairy guy at the bowling alley. So after Toby
squeezed and inhaled as much of Brad as he could, he
decided to move things along without wasting time. He
slowly went down on his knees, arched his back, and
sucked Brad’s dick into his mouth. He knew this is what
Brad wanted by the way Brad was playing with his ass.

Brad’s body jerked. His head went back and he

moaned out loud in a way that would have sounded painful
if someone had been listening from a distance. He
grabbed the sides of Toby’s head gently and spread his
legs wider. When Toby took him all the way to the back of
his throat and Toby’s lips were buried in his crotch, Toby
closed his eyes and inhaled his masculine scent as deeply

as he could. He’d almost forgotten how wonderful it was.
He remained this way for a long time without moving, taking
in as much of Brad as he could. While he did this, Brad
applied more pressure to the sides of Toby’s head. At one
point, he shoved Toby’s face into his crotch so hard his
pubic hair tickled Toby’s nose.

The entire act took less than fifteen minutes, with Toby

on his knees the entire time. When Toby started sucking
and moving his head back and forth, he grabbed his own
dick and started stroking it. One of the things he’d learned
about men like Brad Lindsay was that the lines were almost
always drawn with respect to who would be on his knees
and who would be looking down. And Toby didn’t mind this
at all. In fact, he’d always preferred to be the one on his
knees looking up.

A second before Brad came, he grabbed Toby’s head

and looked down. “Is it okay?”

Toby knew what Brad meant. And it was nice of him to

ask. Not all men bothered to ask, not in Toby’s experience.
They just grunted and came, and then pulled up their
zippers and left. Toby’s eyes went up and they met Brad’s
eyes. Toby nodded yes twice, with Brad’s dick almost all
the way inside his mouth. Then he started sucking harder
and moving his head faster. He applied more pressure with
his tongue and his lips until he felt Brad swell and explode.
A second after that, while Toby swallowed, Toby stroked
out his own load on the white tiled floor between Brad’s
legs. By that time Toby’s eyes were still closed and he was
still sucking as hard as he had been when Brad had

climaxed. It had been so long since the last time Toby had
done this he didn’t want to let go of him; he wanted to savor
every single minute of this experience for as long as he
could for those long lonely night when there would be no
one around. At one point, Brad had to literally hold Toby’s
face and pry Toby’s lips off his dick.

Brad laughed and took a step back. “Hold on, buddy,”

he said. “You’re killing me here. There’s nothing left to
give.”

Toby took a quick breath and exhaled. “I’m sorry. I

guess I just lost control. It’s been a while.” He sent him an
upward glance and smiled. “Thanks.”

Brad went over to the sink and said, “I guess it has been

a while. I thought I was going to need a crowbar to pry you
away. To be honest, it’s been a while for me, too, and I was
going nuts. I should be thanking

you

.” Then he rinsed his

dick with warm water, tapped it on the edge of the sink,
shook it off, and shoved it back into his pants damp.

When Toby stood to pull up his pants, Brad reached

around and grabbed his ass again. He squeezed it a few
times and said, “Thanks, buddy. You’re the best. I really
mean that.” And then he left Toby standing beside the
urinals with swollen lips and sore knees.

* * * *

Although this encounter between them was the first and

the last they’d ever share, they did become friendlier as the
months passed. It wasn’t the type of friendship that Brad
had with other guys in the office. Toby didn’t go to baseball

games with Brad and he didn’t play poker or golf with him.
But they did go out to lunch once in a while and Brad
always made sure he stopped in to say hello at least once
or twice a day to see how Toby was doing.

This left Toby stunned in more ways than one. After

Toby blew Brad in the men’s room, he was certain his job
was on the line. He didn’t sleep the entire night or the rest
of the weekend. His boss was “happily” married and Toby
knew how those things went. And even worse, Brad was
married to a senior partner’s daughter. At the very worst,
Brad would want him out of the way, if not out of sight
completely. At the very least, he feared Brad would avoid
him and ignore him as much as possible. And there would
always be that unspoken shame between them.

But when Brad popped his head into Toby’s small office

the next Monday morning and said, “Good morning, hot
lips,” Toby glanced over at him and pressed his palm to his
throat. Brad was smiling and leaning halfway into the
doorway. He said he was on his way to a meeting but
wanted to say hello on the way.

“Ah well, good morning,” Toby said with a dumbfounded

expression. Evidently, he’d underestimated Brad.

Brad looked back over his shoulder to make sure no

one was listening. He turned back to Toby and asked, “You
okay about what happened last Friday night?” Then he
laughed, brought his fist to his face, and made fake blow
job gestures.

Toby shrugged and smiled. He could still taste Brad’s

dick. “I’m good,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about

me. I told you I’m discreet.”

Brad exhaled and laughed again. “I’m glad. I had a

feeling I could trust you completely. You have no idea how
much I’m looking forward to our new friendship.”

“You are?” Toby asked. He had no idea what Brad was

talking about.

“Buddy, I’ve been looking for a friend like you for years,”

Brad said. He glanced at his watch. “I’m late for the
meeting. I just wanted to be sure we’re okay. I don’t want
you getting the wrong idea about love or anything. That
happened to me once before in college and it was
nightmare. I never thought I’d get that guy off my back.”

Toby furrowed his eyebrows. “The wrong idea?”
“You know, about what happened last Friday night,”

Brad said. He refrained from making the obscene gesture
a second time. “I just want it to be clear it was a one time
deal and that it’s not going to happen again. But I’d still like
to think we can be friends and help each other out every
now and then, if you know what I mean.”

Toby didn’t have a clue. But this was his boss and he

didn’t want to lose the best job he’d ever had. He knew
there was room for advancement in this agency and he
wasn’t going to let a simple blow job ruin his career.
Besides, there was something about Brad he liked and he
didn’t have any friends like himself. So he shrugged and
said, “I know exactly what you mean. And don’t worry. I’m
fine about what happened Friday night. I mean that. And I
don’t expect it to happen again.” This was the absolute
truth, too. The last thing Toby wanted to do was get involved

with a married man. He’d had plenty of chances to get
involved with women and get married himself. But he’d
never felt right about it.

“I knew I could count on you,” Brad said. He looked at

his watch again. “I’ve got to run now. But we’ll make plans;
I’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good,” Toby said.
“And I promise,” Brad said. “I’ll take good care of you if

you take good care of me.”

Toby smiled and watched him leave. He knew Brad

wasn’t talking about anything sexual now. He’d made it
clear they would never be lovers again. If Toby had been
more experienced he might have understood what Brad’s
plans were. But he was still so innocent when it came to
these things he couldn’t seem to grasp the reason why
Brad would even want to pursue a friendship with him.

Chapter Two

The first time Richie Santori met Toby McFarlane,

Richie was banging on the front doors of Johnson,
Frederick, and Lindsay. He had a key to this suite of
offices; he’d never had trouble getting inside after hours. All
the maintenance men and cleaning personnel had keys to
the offices in the building. But there was something
obstructing the door and Richie couldn’t see what it was.

It was after seven, on a Friday evening in the fall of

1962, and Richie had to get inside and do his job. He
usually started with JFL advertising, worked his way
through other offices, and finished with Farmland Insurance.
Richie didn’t like his routine interrupted; he’d get in trouble
for this; maybe lose his job again. Richie knew there was
someone inside. He saw lights and shadows coming from
a back office at the end of the hall, so he continued to
knock.

When he saw Toby walk into the main reception area,

looking around with a clueless expression, he banged
harder and jiggled the doors to get his attention. Richie had
heard about the new guy in the advertising office upstairs
named Toby something or other but he hadn’t seen him up
close yet. Word spread fast with the work crew in buildings
like this. When a few of the girls in the cleaning crew said
Toby was cute and had a nice smile, Richie’s ears went up
and he listened without being obvious. But that’s all the girls
said, other than the fact that Toby seemed to keep to

himself and mind his own business. One girl said he was
shy. Another thought he was “stuck up.”

Richie was starting to think this Toby guy was just plain

stupid. Toby turned toward the glass double doors, with a
dazed expression, and gaped at Richie for a moment.
When Toby finally figured out Richie couldn’t get in, he ran
over and turned the lock. Richie noticed that Toby was
unusually nice looking, in a crew neck sweater,
conservative way. And he wasn’t even smiling that evening.
There was something about him that gave Richie a good
feeling and it had nothing to do with sex.

Richie jiggled the doors again and said, “It’s not the

lock, buddy. I have a key to all the offices. There’s
something stuck in the door and I can’t see what it is.” He
pronounced “door” with a hard R that sounded too forced.
He’d been trying to lose his heavy Bronx accent so he’d
sound more refined.

Toby, still looking clueless, ran his palm down the back

of his head. He looked as though he was trying to
remember something important but couldn’t. Richie couldn’t
help but notice that Toby’s hair was a little messy and his
shirt tail was hanging out. His face was red and there were
beads of perspiration forming around his temples.

When Richie pointed to the bottom of the doors, Toby

rubbed his chin and squatted down to have a look. A
second later, he reached down, moved something around,
and pulled some kind of metal shim out that had been
lodged perfectly between the bottoms of the doors and a
thick piece of wood that framed the carpet. It was narrow at

one end and thicker at the other. Richie wondered why on
earth anyone would shove something like that between the
doors.

As Toby did this, Brad Lindsay stepped up behind him

and smiled at Richie through the glass. Brad looked neat
and refreshed, as always. This wasn’t the first time Richie
had met Brad Lindsay. Brad had been sending Richie
smiles and glances since Richie had been hired as part of
the cleaning crew a year earlier. Though everyone knew
Brad was married to the boss’s daughter, there were a
select few who also knew Brad was more than interested in
a few of the good looking guys in the maintenance
department. Once in a while, when no one was looking and
Richie came up to empty waste baskets in the afternoon,
Brad brushed up against Richie casually and winked.
Nothing significant ever happened; Richie was still hoping.

Toby stood up and glanced down at the object that had

been lodged between the doors. When Richie opened the
doors, Brad stepped into the hall and turned back to look at
them. Brad smiled at Richie and said to Toby, “I wonder
how that thing got stuck in there. Good thing we stayed late
to work, otherwise no one would have been able to get
inside and clean the office tonight. I’ll bet it was Harvey in
accounting playing one of his practical jokes again.”

Richie frowned. Though he’d flunked out of high school

in the tenth grade, this comment didn’t even make sense to

him

. Someone had shoved that metal shim between the

doors to keep people out on purpose. There was no way
anyone could have done it from the outside to play a

practical joke. And from the confused expression Richie
saw on Toby’s face, Richie had a feeling he knew why. It
was obvious that cute little Toby and good old Brad had
been fooling around after hours and they didn’t want to be
disturbed. Though Brad looked as cool and calm as usual,
Toby’s face was still red and his lips were swollen from
sucking dick. Richie might have had a thick Bronx accent,
and he didn’t know Shakespeare from Jack Benny, but he
had good instincts when it came to men and he could spot
a cock sucker a mile away.

Richie stepped into the reception area with his cart of

cleaning supplies. He smiled at Brad and said, “I’m sure
glad you were here, Mr. Lindsay.” It was better to play dumb
and pretend: Richie knew the deal. It would have been bad
enough if Brad Lindsay had been fooling around on his wife
with women. But fooling around with a man made it
downright dangerous; it wasn’t something to joke about.
Richie had seen it all by then with these guys in suits and
he’d learned to look the other way. Discretion was the
magic word and the key to survival with his bosses. When it
came to the married guys who worked in these office
buildings, there was always some kind of sneaking around
going on with women and men.

Toby fumbled with his shirt and tucked it back into his

pants. He regained his composure and glanced down at
the shim in his hand. “I can’t imagine why anyone would
want to stick

this

between the doors.”

Richie looked down at the floor. Toby wasn’t a very

good actor.

Brad laughed and patted Toby on the back. “Well, no

use worrying about it now. It’s late and I’ve got to get home
before my wife kills me. See you on Monday, buddy.” Then
he looked Richie up and down fast, smiled, and headed
down the hall to the elevator without giving either of them a
backward glance.

When he was gone, Toby wiped a bead of sweat from

his cheek and said, “I guess I’ll be going, too. Sorry you
couldn’t get inside.”

Toby seemed to have trouble speaking, as if he couldn’t

connect his sentences. Richie shrugged and said, “No
problem. As long as I’m in and I can work now.”

Toby ran his fingers through his hair again. Then he

nodded too fast and said, “Well I’ll be heading out in a
minute. I just stayed late to finish up some work. See you
later.”

After that, Richie noticed Toby more often. He saw him

in passing once or twice a week. He’d see Toby getting off
the elevator, or walking to the conference room, and they’d
always smile and exchange glances. But it took a while for
them to actually speak again. And that’s partly because
Richie had been so preoccupied with more pressing
matters that fall.

After the night Richie had been locked out of the office,

Brad Lindsay started turning up in the most unlikely places.
Richie would be pulling a mop and pail out of the men’s
room and Brad would show up as he was leaving. Or they’d
run into each other in the service elevator and Brad would
use the excuse that the service elevator was faster and

that’s why he was using it. Richie knew what Brad was
doing; he wasn’t dumb; none of the guys in suits ever used
the service elevator. It was as if Brad had Richie’s scent
and he was on his tail. Once Brad actually followed Richie
to the subway platform and pretended to bump into him by
accident.

Richie had no doubts that Brad was following him; he

trusted his instincts, especially with the married men who
liked to keep it quiet. Richie knew how to throw out the bait
and reel them in, too. He wasn’t exactly an amateur.
Whenever he ran into Brad Lindsay, he always gazed into
Brad’s eyes with an innocent expression and pretended he
didn’t know what was happening. Sometimes he’d brush
his fingers against Brad’s wrist on purpose. Once he even
unbuckled his pants and pretended to tuck in his shirt while
he was alone with Brad in the service elevator. They were
between the second and first floor, heading down to the
lobby. He pulled his pants down just low enough so that
Brad could see the bulge in his white briefs, and then he
tucked in his shirt and buckled them up again so fast poor
Brad’s mouth hung open.

After a few weeks of these so-called accidental

meetings, Brad finally cornered Richie in the men’s room.
He followed Richie inside, checked to be sure they were
alone, and then locked the door.

Richie knew what Brad was doing. He’d seen this

coming for weeks. But he played dumb again, so that Brad
would think he was in total control. “Nice day, isn’t it, Mr.
Lindsay,” Richie said, as he pulled the mop out of the pail

and ran it through a wringer. Then, as a tease, he groped
his dick a few times, on purpose.

Brad crossed to where he was standing. He reached for

Richie’s hand and said, “I have this place where we can
meet up. Are you interested?”

Richie looked into his eyes and nodded yes. “Is it safe?

I stay out of trouble and I never get mixed up in anything I
shouldn’t.” There was no use in pretending. They’d been
flirting with each other and leading up to this moment. But
Richie wanted to get a few things clear up front. He’d been
in situations like this before and he’d learned his lesson.
His last job had been in maintenance in the mayor’s office
at city hall. One of the most popular politicians in the city
had approached Richie the same way Brad was
approaching him now and they’d wound up getting caught
in the act. The guy’s wife came home early from a long
weekend in the country and she found Richie and her
husband in bed, with Richie on top and the guy’s legs over
his shoulders. She turned a blind eye to what her husband
had done, but she ordered her husband to fire Richie from
the best job he’d ever had.

Brad reached down and squeezed Richie’s ass a few

times. He took a quick breath, rubbed his dick with his
other hand, and said, “It’s the safest place in the city. It’s an
apartment that belongs to a friend of mine not far from here.
He lets me use it once in a while.”

Richie arched his back for a second, allowing Brad to

get a good, long feel. He could almost smell Brad’s strong
male hormones raging in the enclosed space. Brad had

soft hands; they felt so good Richie wanted to strip down
and get a little action right there in the bathroom. But he
knew that wouldn’t have been safe, especially not in the
middle of the day. So he stepped back and said, “Let me
know when and where.” Then he reached for the mop and
walked over to unlock the bathroom door.

* * * *

A few days later, Brad followed Richie into the service

elevator after lunch and handed him a small, folded slip of
paper. He said, “Here’s the address. Can you meet me
there this evening at six?”

This happened on a Wednesday, a night when Richie

didn’t work late. He took the slip of paper, shoved it into his
back pocket, and said, “I’ll be there. You’re sure it’s safe?”

“The guy who owns the apartment is a very good friend,”

Brad said. “We can trust him completely.”

On the way over to the strange apartment that night,

Richie had second thoughts. He hadn’t had time to shower
and he was still wearing his work clothes. Though he would
have liked to change, he wasn’t concerned about his outfit.
This was the third time he’d gotten involved with a married
guy. He’d told himself he’d never do this again. It led
nowhere and left him empty and emotionless in the end. He
almost stopped and turned back toward the subway.

The first time this happened with a married guy Richie

thought he’d met the love of his life. This was back when
he’d been filled with all the dreams of youth and didn’t think
anything bad could ever happen to him. He’d been hired to

work as a dishwasher at a small Italian restaurant on Arthur
Avenue in the Bronx. and he’d wound up falling in love with
the boss. He’d only been twenty-one at the time. His boss
had been thirty-one, married for ten years, and had three
kids. This guy promised Richie that he’d tell his wife, he’d
get a divorce, and he and Richie would move away to
California together and start a new life of their own. Richie
believed him, every single word. Richie let this guy do
things to him in bed he’d never let anyone do before. Richie
had even gone to the library to research Los Angeles to
find out where the best places to live were. And then the
guy’s wife followed them to a small hotel on the Grand
Concourse one night, with her brother, who happened to be
a New York City police officer. And while Richie was on his
knees, naked with his boss’s huge dick in his mouth, the
wife’s cop brother broke the door down and he beat the hell
out of them both. That ended Richie’s love affair, his perfect
nose, and his career in the restaurant business.

The second time it happened had been with the

politician at city hall. Richie had been twenty-three at the
time. And now he was twenty-five and he should have
known better then to repeat the same mistakes. But he
couldn’t stop thinking about Brad Lindsay’s handsome face
and his strong hands. When he was with Brad, something
inside him ignited and he had trouble concentrating.
Though he knew this was wrong because Brad was
married, he rationalized it by comparing it to his own
circumstances. Richie had once been engaged to a
woman because he thought it had been the right thing to

do. He was eighteen years old and still denying that he was
attracted to other men. His family forced him to get
engaged; they complained that he didn’t date women like
his older bother and said it was time for him to get a girl.
They also added that if he didn’t get a girlfriend people
were going to start thinking he was a “fag” or a “goddamn
fucking queer.”

Richie didn’t think he looked like a queer or a fag. He

was tall, dark, and had smooth olive skin. He had strong
features and walked with a heavy step. He did a lot of
heavy lifting in the maintenance department and he’d built
up muscles without even trying but he believed what he was
told. He got engaged to a neighborhood girl, Rosie
Paganan,o and he played the game for as long as he
could. And when he couldn’t take it any longer, he wound up
breaking off the engagement and moving out of his mother
and father’s house for good. He moved into a large
apartment building in Parkchester, with two other guys who
were just like him that he’d met at a bar.

Richie knew what Brad Lindsay’s life was like. He knew

why Brad had gotten married. He suspected Brad had
been pressured into marrying a woman just as he had,
because Brad didn’t know what else to do. Richie knew
how difficult it was to kiss a woman and make love to a
woman while dreaming about a man at the same time. The
only difference between them was that Richie had seen
other options and Brad hadn’t.

When Richie climbed the front stoop of the strange

townhouse in Manhattan, he stepped into the vestibule and

buzzed apartment number forty-two. He glanced down at
the small flower arrangement in his left hand and smiled.
He’d never gone anywhere in his life empty-handed. And
even though this was a cheap bouquet from a corner
grocery store he’d passed on the way, at least it was
something pretty.

The intercom clicked and Brad asked, “Yes?”
Richie leaned forward. “It’s me. I’m here.”
“Come on up.”
It was one of those walk-ups, on the fourth floor. But

Richie didn’t mind. He took the steps two at a time without
stopping to catch his breath once. When he reached the
fourth floor, he turned left at the top of the steps and
glanced at the numbers on the doors. There was a middle
aged woman with short curly blond hair standing outside
apartment number forty-four. She was holding a bag of
groceries and trying to unlock her door.

Richie noticed the apartment next to hers was forty-two,

so he stopped and said, “Let me help.” Then he took the
keys, opened the door for her, and smiled.

“Thank you so much,” the woman said. She looked him

up and down and smiled. She glanced at the bouquet of
flowers and said, “Aren’t those lovely. Are they for someone
special?”

Richie smiled. He could tell she was the nosey type.

People in small buildings like this wanted to know
everything. This is why he liked his large apartment
complex in Parkchester: no one cared one way or the other.
“They are for a friend,” he said. He didn’t go into detail. And

he didn’t move until she was inside and she’d closed the
door. He didn’t want her watching him knock on the door of
this strange apartment and seeing Brad answer.

When it was safe, Richie knocked on door number forty-

two and Brad opened it. Brad smiled and stepped aside
and gestured for him to enter. “I hope you didn’t have any
trouble finding the place.”

Richie shrugged. He handed Brad the flowers and said,

“I know the city pretty well. It was easy.” Then he glanced
around and saw older furniture and a TV from the mid
1950’s. The walls were covered in some kind of old
fashioned cabbage rose paper and the trim was thick and
dark and dismal, with ornate carvings and old fashioned
scrolls. It looked as if whoever lived here had picked pieces
up from second hand stores and bargain basements.
Everything was either someone else’s cast off or
something that should have been thrown away ten years
ago. But it was clean and there was a faint smell of spicy
masculine cologne lingering in the background. There
wasn’t a speck of dust; the pillows were arranged neatly on
the threadbare sofa, and not a cobweb in sight. Whoever
lived here didn’t have a lot of money, but they were
definitely organized.

Brad closed the door and walked up behind Richie. He

thanked him for the flowers and brought them into the small
kitchenette. While he searched for something to put the
flowers in, he said, “Make yourself at home.”

Richie said, “Okay,” and then he glanced at the

bedroom. This was one of those railroad flats, where one

room leads right into another, and the bedroom was right
off the living room area. The bedroom furniture wasn’t much
better than the living room. But the bed was covered with a
white chenille spread and the pillows had been tucked in
perfectly. He almost laughed. It reminded him of his
grandmother’s bedroom.

“Can I get you anything?” Brad asked from the kitchen.
“No, I’m fine,” Richie said. He knew there were two

ways to go in a situation like this. He could pretend to be
innocent and let Brad make all the moves. Or he could be
bold and stop wasting time.

He decided on the latter and walked into the bedroom.

He knew they probably didn’t have that much time: a couple
of hours at the most. So he kicked off his work boots and
pulled off his industrial socks. Then he unzipped his brown
work pants and unbuttoned his brown work shirt. By the
time Brad walked into the bedroom, with a small jar of
petroleum jelly in his right hand, Richie was on the bed,
totally naked, with his erection resting on his smooth flat
stomach. He spread his legs and smiled.

Brad smiled and rubbed his palms together. “You aren’t

shy, are you?” He looked at Richie’s cock and licked his
lips.

Richie spread his legs a little wider and reached down

to stroke his dick. He lifted all nine inches and pointed it in
Brad’s direction. “I like you. And I know we don’t have much
time.” Then he rolled over on his stomach, arched his back,
and looked over his shoulder. “And I think I know what you
like.”

Although Richie had always been truly versatile when it

came to sex with men, he had a feeling Brad was the
aggressive type who always had to be on top. The married
guys were usually this way. They seemed more comfortable
rationalizing having sex with men as long as they didn’t
suck dick or get fucked. This way they weren’t as queer as
the guys who were on the bottom. They were just studs who
liked to fuck a tight hole. This kind of thinking made no
sense to Richie. If you were attracted to guys it didn’t matter
what you did in bed. In his opinion the best lovers were,
indeed, versatile. But Richie had learned to play the game
in order to make men like Brad happy.

Brad removed all his clothes and climbed up on

Richie’s back. “You have a nice ass,” he said. “So nice and
round and firm.” He moved his hips slowly and rubbed up
and down.

Richie spread his legs wider and kissed Brad’s hand.

“You feel good, too.”

“I’m glad you could meet me here,” Brad said. “I don’t

do this often.”

“I don’t either,” Richie said. Though his choices in men

hadn’t been very good in the past, he’d never been
promiscuous in the sense that he went out cruising all the
time. This meeting with Brad was his first time with a man
in over nine months. It’s not that he didn’t have plenty of
opportunities. It’s just that he preferred men with which he
shared an emotional connection.

For the next half hour, they rolled around in the sheets

and kissed. When Richie saw that Brad wasn’t going to go

down on him, Richie told Brad to close his eyes and he
went down on Brad. The one thing he’d always liked about
guys like Brad was that they were clean and they smelled
like soap. Brad reminded him of talcum powder and musk
cologne. Brad didn’t wear cologne or after shave but he
had his own distinct aroma, especially between his legs.

Richie forgot all his inhibitions and ravished him. He

played with Brad’s balls and then sucked them. He licked
every inch of Brad’s crotch. He took his time and Brad
stretched out and moaned softly. When he finally took
Brad’s dick into his mouth and started sucking, Brad
reached down, caressed his head, and moaned even
louder. By this time, Richie knew what Brad liked. Though
Brad wanted to think of himself as the dominant top…the
aggressive one…all he wanted to do was lie back and let
Richie do all the passive aggressive work.

By the time Richie sucked Brad off to the point where

he was ready to come, he stopped a moment before Brad
climaxed and said, “I’m going to do something you’re going
to love now.” He knew Brad would have come in his mouth
and that would have been the end of it. He wouldn’t have
minded. But he hadn’t been with a man in a long time and
he wanted more.

“I already love what you’re doing,” Brad said.
“You’ll like this just as much.”
Richie climbed up and straddled Brad’s hips. He

reached for the small jar of petroleum jelly Brad had brought
into the room and he scooped out a small amount with two
fingers. While Brad watched everything he did, Richie

reached around and spread the grease all over his hole.
When he inserted two fingers, Brad bit his bottom lip and
stared at him with hungry, glazed eyes. And when he
grabbed Brad’s dick and sat all the way down on it, Brad
bolted forward and said, “Fuck yes. Damn, that’s hot.”

Richie took Brad into his body fast. He’d never been

one to complain about pain or discomfort and didn’t
understand those who did. Richie smiled and reached out
with both hands. He pushed Brad backwards and said,
“Just closed your eyes and let me do everything.”

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” Brad said, gently shoving

his dick deeper into Brad’s body.

Richie didn’t actually have a favorite position in bed. But

this particular position was one of the most comfortable. He
knew how to control his sphincter muscle and he knew how
to rock and grind his hips with a constant even rhythm. He
hadn’t met a man yet he couldn’t get off in this position.

And Brad was no exception. In less than fifteen minutes,

Richie was grinding and squeezing and Brad was on the
edge. When Brad came, his entire body shuddered, his
upper body jerked forward, and he let out a deep howl that
went right through Richie’s body. Richie came a second
later, all over Brad’s torso. Then Richie rode Brad’s dick
until they both went flaccid. After that, they took a quick
shower together and got dressed.

While Richie was putting on his socks, Brad caressed

the back of his neck and said, “I wish we had more time.
But my friend will be home soon. I hope that’s okay.”

Richie shrugged. He didn’t have much of a choice. “I’m

okay. I had fun.”

Brad buckled his belt and said, “I hope we can meet

again. Like I said, I don’t do this often and you’re very
special.”

Richie had been hoping Brad would say something

about meeting again. He couldn’t be the one to do it. Brad
would think he was being possessive and clingy. For a
minute there he’d been worried this might be a one time
thing. But he wanted to play hard-to-get a little, too. “I guess
we can. Let me know and I’ll see if I’m free.”

“I’ll check with my friend and let you know tomorrow at

work,” Brad said.

There was no talk about making plans to get together

for dinner…or a real date. When it occurred to Richie that
he had plunged back in the same situation he’d once sworn
he’d never be in again, a wave of despair passed through
his body. But he liked Brad and he thought there might be a
chance for them to have something more than just a dark,
clandestine relationship. He wasn’t in love with Brad…at
least not yet. Though he’d never been in love with anyone,
he could love a man like Brad. It wouldn’t be difficult.

When they were dressed, they cleaned up the

apartment and tried to put everything back the same way
they’d found it. When Richie glanced at the bed it didn’t
seem quite right. The bedspread appeared off center and
the pillows weren’t tucked in as neatly as they had been. So
while Brad waited for him out in the living room, Richie went
back one last time to straighten out the pillows. When he
glanced down at the nightstand he saw a small photo of a

familiar face next to the telephone.

He lifted the photo and took a closer look. The familiar

face in the photo belonged to Toby MacFarlane. He was
standing with four other guys and they were all wearing
baseball uniforms. The photo looked recent, as if it had
been taken in college. Richie set the photo down and left it
where he’d found it. Then he wondered if Toby MacFarlane
knew who Brad was bringing to his apartment.

Chapter Three

“I’d like to discuss something with you that I think will

benefit both of us,” said Brad Lindsay. “Please have a seat.
It won’t take long.”

Toby had just entered Brad’s large corner office with the

wall of glass and the view overlooking the Manhattan
skyline. He crossed to one of the black leather chairs in
front of Brad’s sleek, Lucite desk and sat down without
saying a word. He had no idea why he’d been summoned
to Brad’s office on that Monday afternoon. But he had a
feeling it had something to do with the blow job he’d given
Brad on Friday night. He folded his hands and tried to
smile. But deep inside his stomach was turning around in
circles.

Brad sat back in his large leather recliner, lifted his

arms, and laced his fingers behind his head in that way
smug, powerful people often do. He smiled at Toby and
said, “I’ve seen your work and I think it’s very good. I know
the senior partners have mentioned how talented you are,
too. We all think you have a great deal of potential here.”

Toby nodded. This didn’t sound as bad as he thought it

would. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“In fact, you have all the qualities it takes to move up in a

firm like Johnson, Frederick, and Lindsay. And I’d like to be
the one to help you do this.”

Toby still wasn’t sure where all this was going. He’d

always believed that if something sounded too good to be

true it probably was too good to be true. But he smiled
anyway and said, “I’m glad you think so.”

“And that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,”

Brad said. “I can help promote your career and put in a
good word for you whenever I can, especially with my
father-in-law. There’s going to be an opening for a new art
director in the spring and I think you’d be perfect for it. Is
this something you’d be interested in?”

Toby took a quick breath. This was the last thing he’d

expected to hear. “Ah well, yes. I’d certainly be interested in
the position.” He couldn’t think of anything that would have
made him happier. To move up from assistant art director
to art director in less than one year in the same firm was
unheard of. It also meant more money, which was
something he could use.

“I thought you might be interested,” Brad said. He

rubbed his jaw and leaned forward. He rested his elbows
on the glass desk and folded his hands. “You live alone,
right?” He lowered his tone and lifted one eyebrow.

“Yes. I have a small apartment not far from here.” He still

didn’t know where this was going, but if it involved getting
him promoted in the firm he wasn’t going to ask questions.

“I was thinking that since I’m willing to help you out with

the promotion, you might be willing to help me out,” Brad
said. “And being that we have so much in common, if you
know what I mean, our unusual friendship would benefit us
both. We could have sort of an arrangement. Guys like us
have to stick together.”

Toby wasn’t completely sure he knew what Brad was

talking about. But he had a feeling it had something to do
with the fact that they weren’t heterosexual. The only thing
they had in common was that they were attracted to men. “I
think I know what you mean. But I don’t see how I can help

you

. You’re a junior partner; I’m an assistant art director.”

Brad smiled at him and paused. Evidently, he didn’t

want to come right out with it. He thought for a moment, as if
searching for the right words, and then said, “It’s not always
easy to find a nice private place, if you know what I mean.
At least not for guys like us. A safe place, where guys like
us can just kick back and relax for a couple of hours a
week. A small apartment like yours not far from the office
would be perfect for someone in my position. It would be
the perfect combination of discretion and convenience.”

When Toby finally understood what Brad was talking

about, he gulped and said, “It’s not easy. I know what you
mean.” He knew there had to be a catch. Guys like Brad
Lindsay never offered to help anyone unless there was
something good in it for them. Brad wanted to use Toby’s
apartment as a destination for his discreet meetings with
other men. And he wanted it so badly he was willing to
advance Toby’s career.

“And I know I can trust you,” Brad said. “After all, you

have just as much to lose as I do.”

At first Toby didn’t understand…it didn’t fully register.

But when he thought about what Brad had just said in more
detail, he understood completely. Even though Toby wasn’t
married to the boss’s daughter, he did, indeed, have just as
much to lose as Brad if anyone found out he was

homosexual. High profile, respectable firms like Johnson,
Frederick, and Lindsay didn’t hire homosexuals knowingly.
No one did that. Even the most flamboyant homosexuals
Toby had seen on TV, like Truman Capote, never admitted
to it openly. They just flitted around, drowning in innuendo,
waving their limp wrists and ignoring their identities
completely. And they always got a good laugh…at their own
expense. So Toby nodded and said, “You can trust me
completely.”

“And you can trust me,” Brad said.
Toby stood up and reached across the desk to shake

Brad’s hand. “I’ll have a key made this evening. The only
thing I ask is that you let me know ahead of time when you’ll
be using the apartment so I’m not around. I’d rather not run
into you. This way you have complete privacy and I know
nothing.”

“No problem,” Brad said. “I think we’re going to be very

good friends. It’s the perfect arrangement for both of us.”

Early the next morning, Toby gave Brad a key to his

apartment and told him the address. He handed it to him in
the reception area and no one even noticed. But the next
afternoon when Brad called and asked to use the
apartment later that evening for a couple of hours, Toby got
a sinking feeling in his stomach. The magnitude of what
he’d agreed to do hit him hard and his heart started to race.
He couldn’t say no. He’d made the deal and he’d known
what he was doing. But there was something about the
entire arrangement that didn’t sit well with him. And now he
would have to figure out how to kill two hours after work

before he could go home to his own apartment.

* * * *

By the end of October, Toby found himself locked out of

his own apartment for two hours as often as four nights a
week. At least Brad always let him know when he needed
the apartment, and he never took longer than the allotted
two hours they’d agreed upon. But that didn’t leave Toby
many alternatives on the nights Brad used his apartment.
Sometimes he’d stay late at the office and work on
campaigns. Sometimes he’d walk through the park and eat
hot dogs for dinner until it was time to go home. And
sometimes he just sat on a park bench and shivered,
wondering where on earth Brad Lindsay found the stamina
to keep up such an arduous pace with these men.

Toby never asked any questions; he had no idea who

Brad was bringing up to his apartment and he didn’t want to
know. Toby figured what he was doing was bad enough:
covering up Brad’s secret, dysfunctional life; the less Toby
knew the better off he was. At least Brad was neat and he
respected Toby’s things. The first week Brad started using
the apartment he bought Toby ten new sets of white cotton
sheets and stacked them in the linen closet. Brad lined a
shelf in the medicine cabinet with jars of petroleum jelly. By
the time Toby returned to his home, there were always
clean sheets on his bed and the apartment always looked
the same way Toby had left it in the morning. And
sometimes, though not always, there was a nice little
bouquet of flowers in a small vase on the coffee table.

Though it was a small gesture, and Toby wasn’t sure who
was responsible for the flowers, it brightened an otherwise
dismal situation and made it more tolerable.

With this new arrangement, Toby didn’t usually get

home until nine o’clock at night. And thanks to these new
hours, he got to know his neighbor in number forty-four. At
first they just nodded and said hello in passing. Toby was
used to coming home between six and seven and the
hallway was always empty. The person who lived in number
forty-four was a middle aged woman with a full figure and
short curly blond hair. She reminded him of Ethel Mertz on
the old

I Love Lucy Show

from a distance and she sounded

like Burl Ives up close. He figured they didn’t have much in
common and it wasn’t worth getting too friendly. Besides
that, he wondered if she ever ran into Brad coming or
going. This was something Toby wanted to avoid talking
about at all cost.

But one night in early November he ran into the woman

in number forty-four in the hall and she introduced herself.
“I’m Rosemary Stanford. Since we keep running into each
other this way I figured we may as well get to know each
other a little better.” She spoke in a voice so deep and
husky it sounded as if she needed to cough up a gob of
phlegm.

Toby smiled and extended his hand. He couldn’t avoid

her now. “I’m Toby MacFarlane. It’s nice to meet you.” He
wanted to keep this casual; he didn’t want to get to know
her better.

“You seem to keep very long hours,” Rosemary said.

“Even longer than mine.” She laughed with a deep bellow
and sent him a comforting look at the same time.

“Ah well,” he said. He couldn’t tell her the truth. “I work in

advertising and I stay late most nights.”

“I’m a doctor at St. Vincent’s in The Village. I know all

about working long hours, trust me.”

This was interesting. A woman doctor. Though he’d

heard there were women doctors he’d never actually met
one in person. The women Toby knew in the medical
profession were always nurses. He had two female cousins
who were nurses in New Jersey. “I feel guilty now,” he said.
“You’re saving lives all day and I’m working on ad
campaigns to get people to drink more soda so they can
ruin their teeth.”

Rosemary shrugged. “It’s all relative, honey,” she said.

“As long as you love what you do, nothing else matters
much.”

A week later, they ran into each other in the hallway

again and Rosemary asked if he wanted to meet one night
after work and have dinner. Toby agreed and they met at a
little restaurant not far from St. Vincent’s on Saturday night.
When they sat down and ordered drinks, Rosemary made
a comment about the noises she sometimes heard coming
from Toby’s apartment. But she also made of point of
letting him know it didn’t bother her. She laughed and said,
“Don’t worry, honey. You’re young and you should be having
all the fun you can get. It sounds like you’re knocking them
off like flies in there. Ha.”

Toby knew she was referring to what she’d heard when

Brad used the apartment, because Toby wasn’t having any
fun at all. He hadn’t been with a man since that Friday night
in the men’s room with Brad. But he couldn’t let her know
this. So he just smiled and said, “If it ever gets too loud, let
me know. I’ll put a stop to it.”

The waiter set down the drinks and Rosemary waved

her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I just wish I had a fraction of
what you’re getting going on in my apartment. And it’s
always someone different.”

When Toby heard this, he started to wonder just what

exactly was going on in his apartment. He’d been under the
impression Brad was meeting up with one or two guys, a
few at the most, not a

different

one every time. Maybe he

should have asked more questions. The thought of all kinds
of strange men in his apartment made his stomach feel a
little queasy. He smiled at Rosemary and picked up his
menu. “Do you have any recommendations?” he asked. He
decided it was best to change the subject.

While they were having an after dinner drink, Rosemary

leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I wasn’t sure about
whether or not I should say anything. But I like you. And I
know we’re on the same side, if you get my drift, honey.”

Toby blinked. “The same side?”
She frowned. “Don’t play with me. We’re both too old for

that.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ha, you know,” she said. “I’ve seen the guys coming

and going. It doesn’t take much to put it all together,
especially not for me. I was the same way when I was your

age. I had a different girl every night. It used to get a little
messy sometimes. Some of these women want to move
right in after the first date, so to speak.”

Toby almost fell off his seat. Though it probably should

have, this hadn’t occurred to him. He leaned forward and
gaped at her. “You mean you’re a…”

This time Rosemary blinked. “You really didn’t know? I

thought you’d figured it out a week ago when I told you I’d
never been married, I played golf on weekends, and my
favorite place to vacation is Provincetown.” Then she
downed the rest of her port and laughed so hard she had to
hold her stomach.

Toby gulped. “I had no idea.”
“Honey, I was in Provincetown for the grand opening of

The Ace of Spades

, the first lesbian bar in town. I’m sorry. I

thought you’d figured it out by now.”

Toby smiled. “Please, there’s no need to be sorry. I’m

glad

you said something. I’m a little dense sometimes

when it comes to these things. I’m not familiar with
everything yet. I only graduated from college last year and
this is my first real job. I’m not sure how to meet people or
where to go.”

She laughed. “You could have fooled me. From what

I’ve seen and heard, you seem like you know exactly what
you’re doing. I’m sorry, too. I had this impression you were
banging every pretty boy in town.”

Toby sat back and sighed. Then he told her the whole

story about his arrangement with Brad Lindsay, why he’d

been coming home late, and how terrified he was to tell his
boss that he didn’t want to be part of the arrangement
anymore. It felt good to get it all out. He emphasized the
fact that Brad was married, and how this bothered him the
most. There were some nights he couldn’t sleep when he
thought about what was going on in his apartment.

When he was finished, Rosemary reached out for his

hand and said, “I can’t tell you what to do, but your boss
sounds like a first rate asshole to me. I’ve seen it so many
times with men and women like us that I’m used to it. I’ve
dated more than a few married women. But you’re going to
have to figure this out sooner or later. You don’t seem like
the type who can fake it for long. There are some people
who can live a double life and some who can’t. Personally, I
never could.”

Toby groaned and rolled his eyes. “I know I will have to

put an end to this eventually. And I’m not looking forward to
it either. He’s my boss. I could lose my job. And I can’t help
but feel bad for him a little, too. He’s in a worse place than I
am.”

“And that’s the hardest part,” Rosemary said. “But I’ve

learned on thing in life: you’ve got to keep it real.”

* * * *

By the end of November, Rosemary and Toby had

become close enough for Rosemary to ask if Toby wanted
to go away with her and a few friends for Thanksgiving
weekend. At first, Toby hesitated; he’d never been away
from his family in New Jersey on the Holidays. But when

Rosemary said they were going to Provincetown and that
he’d meet a lot of other men just like himself, he accepted
the invitation and phoned his mother that same night to tell
her he wouldn’t be coming home that year.

The next day Brad asked Toby what his Thanksgiving

plans were. He told Brad he’d be gone from Wednesday
until Sunday night, without thinking about the
consequences. Brad smiled so wide when he found out
he’d have the apartment all to himself that weekend Toby
saw his back teeth. This caused a tight pull in Toby’s
stomach. He knew he had to put an end to his arrangement.
Brad didn’t know it, but Toby had been standing in the alley
next to his building for two weeks watching what was going
on. He’d seen Brad come and go, almost every night, with
a different guy. They were mostly all young attractive guys,
in their twenties, and Brad gave them all cab fare to get
home when it was over. But there were two nights when
Toby almost fell sideways into the trash cans in the alley.

The first time it happened was on a Wednesday. Toby

had been lurking in the alley when Brad and someone else
walked down the front stoop. They stopped on the sidewalk
and Brad pulled cash out of his pocket for cab fare. When
Toby saw Brad hand the cash to a tall, attractive blond
woman, he grabbed the brick wall and held his breath. This
was one of the most attractive women Toby had ever seen.
She had long blond hair, wore a short skirt, and very high
heels. Toby had no idea Brad was using his apartment to
entertain women, too. He moved closer to the corner of the
building so he could hear them. That’s when he almost fell

into the trash cans. When the gorgeous blond opened her
mouth and a deep husky voice began to speak, Toby
realized the blond woman was really a man. He blinked and
looked again just to make sure. The blond had a stronger
chin and larger hands than most women. There was no
mistake about it. Toby’s boss was fucking a man dressed
as a woman.

The second surprise came on Friday night of that same

week when Toby saw the nice looking young Italian guy
from the maintenance department of his building walk out
with Brad. He knew the young guy’s name was Richie, but
he couldn’t remember his last name. Toby didn’t think this
guy would ever be Brad’s type. He was so strong and
masculine and rough looking. Toby had noticed him at work
more than once, mostly because he was so attractive. Brad
didn’t give

him

cab fare. He just patted the maintenance

guy’s back and said, “I’ll walk you to the subway.”

The day before Thanksgiving, the entire office left early

for a long weekend. Toby had packed his bag the night
before and he was standing on the front stoop of his
building with Rosemary when a big old Pontiac Chieftain,
with wooden sides and a massive white steering wheel,
pulled up to the curb at four that same afternoon. The
Chieftain was filled with women wearing plaid flannel shirts,
dungarees, and work boots. And they sang country western
music and told dirty jokes all the way up to Cape Cod.

Though it wasn’t the perfect weekend, and Toby didn’t

meet the man of his dreams and fall in love, he did have a
halfway decent time. Rosemary treated him like a younger

brother, and he loved her friends. Some were school
teachers; others were in business for themselves. One gruff
woman, who always wore heavy tweed sport jackets and
looked as if she had her hair cut at a barbershop, was a
professor at Smith College with an impressive list of
academic publishing credits. They even joked around and
said they were going to make Toby an honorary lesbian.

And Toby loved Provincetown, from the ocean to the

narrow little streets lined with hedgerows and picket fences.
The artists were peculiar in a refreshing way, the seaside
cottages quaint, and everywhere he went the conversation
was artistic and fascinating. The galleries blew him away;
the artists painting on the sidewalks made him wish he was
doing something else with his life. It seemed as if this was
the one place in the world where there were no formal
boundaries. It felt like everyone left their real lives on the
outskirts of town and settled into a comfortable, casual
existence. Waiters socialized with doctors and lawyers;
there wasn’t a suit and tie in the entire town. Toby met a few
nice guys his own age from New York and exchanged
phone numbers. He knew they’d only be friends; he didn’t
have sex with anyone that weekend. A few guys had tried to
seduce him and lure him down to the docks. But no one
interested him enough to make it worth his while. The one
guy who did interest him gave out his name the first night
they met. And then Toby found out from a friend of
Rosemary’s that the guy was going by another name and
decided the guy would turn out to be trouble. He never
trusted people with too many different identities.

By Sunday afternoon, when the Chieftain dropped them

off at the curb in New York, Toby felt like a new man. In
those few short days, he’d met new, interesting people; for
the first time in his life he’d been surrounded by decent,
hardworking human beings who were just like him: both
men and women. He had no idea there were that many
people like him out there. Up until that weekend, Toby had
thought half of the homosexual world consisted of people
like Brad Lindsay who spent their time living double lives,
sneaking around corners and settling for what they could
get instead of taking what they deserved. He thought the
other half existed in basement bars wearing bad wigs,
cheap high heels, and flat feather boas.

Toby carried Rosemary’s bags upstairs and they

laughed about his chivalry. “Honey, I should be carrying

your

bags. I’m bigger and stronger than you.”

“But I’m the man,” Toby said, his voice going deeper.

“I’m the one who is supposed to carry the bags. You’re just
a frail helpless little woman.” He knew this would get a rise
out of her.

She laughed so hard she had to stop in the middle of

the third floor staircase for a second. “I’ll bet I could carry
you and the bags up all four flights.”

Toby took a step down. He had a feeling she was

serious and he didn’t want her to hurt herself. “You just be
good and enjoy the attention. Next time you can carry the
bags.”

She stood up straight and started climbing again. “It’s a

deal. And I hope next time we get to stay longer. It’s tough

to travel to The Cape this time of year. You can’t predict the
weather.”

Toby sighed. “I had a great time. I can’t wait to go back

again.” They were supposed to stay until later on Sunday
and have dinner with a few of Rosemary’s friends. But
they’d all decided to leave early because a snowstorm had
been predicted. It had already started snowing when they
passed through Connecticut. There were at least three
inches on the ground now in New York and they were
supposed to be getting up to eight inches that night.

When they reached Rosemary’s door, they hugged and

made plans for dinner the next Saturday night. Toby set
Rosemary’s bags down in her apartment and he crossed
the hall to his. He’d been having such a good time he’d
forgotten all about his arrangement with Brad Lindsay. He
inserted the key and turned the lock. He went inside, set his
luggage down, and removed his coat and his pants. He
was looking forward to a nice quiet Sunday afternoon on a
snowy day, lounging around in his underwear with a good
book and a hot pot of coffee.

On his way to the bedroom, he noticed a fresh bouquet

of flowers on the coffee table and he rolled his eyes. Then
he pulled off his shoes and socks and left them in the
bedroom doorway. He was about to remove his shirt when
he glanced at the bed and saw a hairy naked leg sticking
out of the covers. He pressed his palm to his throat and
gasped. The man in his bed bolted forward and clutched
the sheets.

“What are

you

doing here?” asked the man in his bed.

“I live here,” Toby said. “What are

you

doing here?”

Toby recognized him at once. It was the dark, rough-looking
Italian guy from the maintenance department at work:
Richie.

“I was supposed to meet Brad here last night,” Richie

said. “He promised he’d be here this weekend. We were
supposed to spend the night together. But he had a family
thing and couldn’t come at all. He said I could stay until
around six. He said you wouldn’t be home until later
tonight.”

Toby smacked his palm against his forehead and rolled

his eyes. Now he knew it was time to put a stop to this.

Chapter Four

While Toby went into the living room to put on his pants,

he heard shuffling sounds coming from the bedroom. A
minute later, Richie appeared in the doorway wearing a
black turtle neck sweater and beige slacks. His dark hair
was still messy and he needed a shave. His stubble was so
thick it almost looked dark green. But Toby couldn’t help
notice that he was just as attractive in his street clothes as
he was in his work uniform.

“I’ll just brush my teeth and make up the bed,” Richie

said. “I only

slept

on the sheets. But I’ll put on clean ones

and then I’ll get out of here and leave you alone. Sorry about
this mix up.”

“Ah well, no harm done,” Toby said. Something like this

was bound to happen sooner or later. At least it happened
with Richie and not some guy Toby didn’t know. He liked
Richie; he thought he was the most handsome man he’d
met in New York. He was facing Richie but not actually
looking at him. He stared down at the floor and ran his hand
down back of his head. “Don’t worry about the bed. I’ll take
care of it.”

“No,” Richie said, “I insist. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t

change the sheets. It’ll only take me a minute. I’m getting
pretty good at it. Brad doesn’t know how to change a sheet
from a pillow case.”

Richie glanced up at him and nodded. This made

sense. Though Brad always left the apartment neat and

clean, sometimes the sheets were on inside out,
sometimes they were crooked, and sometimes they were
absolutely perfect. He assumed Richie was the one who left
them perfect.

While Richie changed the sheets and did what he had

to do in the bathroom, Toby went into the kitchen to make a
pot of coffee. His legs were still sore from sitting in the car
for so long and he couldn’t stop yawning. He yelled into the
bedroom and asked Richie if he wanted a cup and Richie
said no. By the time Toby was on his second cup, he
walked to the window and looked down at the street.
Everything was pure white and there wasn’t a car, a bus, or
a person to be seen. Thick clumps of snow had gathered at
the windowsill and the wind was blowing so hard Toby
could feel cold air slipping through the cracks. There had to
be at least two more inches on the ground since the women
had dropped him off.

When Richie appeared in the doorway, he glanced

across the room and said, “Everything’s back to normal
now. I guess I’ll be heading out.” He had a deep, smooth
voice and his thick New York accent was adorable. He
thought Richie could do much better than Brad Lindsay, but
that was none of his business.

As Richie reached for a heavy black overcoat he’d left

hanging over a kitchen chair, Toby glanced out at the snow
again and sighed. It was coming down in fine flakes, on a
slant. “Where do you live?”

Richie dug into his coat pockets for something. He

pulled out a pair of black leather gloves and said, “The

Bronx. Parkchester.”

“How will you get back?” Toby asked. “I haven’t seen a

taxi or a car pass by in the last fifteen minutes. It looks like
the entire city has come to a standstill.”

Richie laughed and pulled a scarf out of his other

pocket. “I’m a New Yorker. I’ll take the subway. It would cost
me a fortune to take a taxi up to The Bronx. And I doubt
there will be many drivers willing to take me up there in this
weather. I’ll be fine.”

Toby knew the subway was about four blocks away. He

hadn’t seen any signs of human life on the street either. He
glanced at Richie’s feet and saw he was wearing black
loafers. This was a holiday weekend and the snow storm
had taken everyone by surprise; it would take longer to
clear the streets and sidewalks. So he turned and faced
Richie. “I don’t feel comfortable seeing you leave in this
weather. You’re not even wearing heavy boots. You’d better
wait until the snow lets up a little.” The last thing Toby
wanted to do was entertain one of Brad Lindsay’s many
boyfriends. But he couldn’t let the poor guy go all the way
back to The Bronx in weather like this.

Richie waved his arm. His large brown eyes sparkled

beneath the cheap kitchen light fixture. “I’m good. I’m not
afraid of the snow. Don’t worry about me.”

Toby pointed to the window. “You’d better check this out

first.”

Richie crossed the room and glanced down at the

street. When he saw a police car that was turned sideways,
in the middle of the street, stuck in a deep pile of snow, he

rubbed his jaw and said, “I didn’t think it was that bad out.”

“And it’s only supposed to get worse later tonight,” Toby

said. “You’d better spend the night here.” Then he walked
back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee, wondering
how in earth he was going to suffer through the night with a
virtual stranger.

Before Toby reached the kitchen, Richie said, “I hate to

be a bother. I could just take my chances and go.”

Toby filled his coffee cup and smiled. Then he sighed

and said, “I’m sure we’ll figure out something to get us
through the long night.”

“I’d just like to make one thing very clear,” Richie said.

His tone grew serious and his eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s that?”
“Just because I’m spending the night here doesn’t mean

I’m going to

do

anything with you. So if you have any plans

in that department, I’ll leave right now. I’m completely
devoted to Brad and I don’t play around behind his back.
We’re in love.”

Toby rolled his eyes and turned to face him. He almost

choked on his coffee. Evidently Richie didn’t seem to mind
the fact that good old Brad was cheating on his wife. “You
don’t have to worry about

that

,” Toby said. “Trust me; I have

no

intention of doing

anything

with you either.”

When he said this, Richie’s face fell and he flung him

look. “What’s wrong with me? I’m not good enough for you
because I work in maintenance?”

“Oh brother,” Toby said. “I didn’t mean it like that. Calm

down, big boy. I just meant that I’m not interested in

sleeping with anyone tonight. So you don’t have to worry.”
He hadn’t expected Richie to react this way, and with such
an insecure, defeated expression. He’d pictured Richie to
be the clueless, insensitive type…the type who knew he
was young, drop-dead gorgeous, and took advantage of it
as much as he could. He looked like one of those guys who
spit on the sidewalk, smoked cigarettes, and opened beer
bottles with his teeth, while everyone drooled and waited for
him to look in their direction.

Richie removed his gloves and scarf and shoved them

back into his pockets. “Well, I just wanted to make that clear
in case you were thinking of trying anything. Brad and I have
something special. We’re completely devoted to each other
and I wouldn’t do anything to ruin it.”

When Toby realized that Richie had no idea Brad

Lindsay was fooling around with other men behind his
back, he felt a tug in his chest. Then he wondered if all the
other guys Brad was playing around with thought Brad was
just as devoted to them. Toby could see by the expression
on Richie’s face that Richie truly believed he had
something special with Brad. He honestly thought he had a
future with the bastard. And Toby didn’t want to be the one
to crush Richie’s dream. So he smiled and said, “Why don’t
you take off your coat and we’ll watch some TV. Maybe
there’s an old movie on.”

They watched a western with John Wayne for the first

two hours, and then they watched and old Bette Davis
movie that almost put Toby to sleep. Toby had stretched out
on the sofa at some point; Richie sat on an orange Danish

modern side chair with his stocking feet resting on the
coffee table. They didn’t speak much; Toby wasn’t sure
what to say. And Richie seemed a little nervous. He didn’t
know where to put his hands. His feet were crossed and he
kept jiggling them.

At the end of the second movie, Toby sat up and rubbed

his eyes. He caught a whiff of Richie’s subtle spicy cologne
and pressed his palm to his chest. He yawned and
stretched. If he’d been alone he would have taken a long
nap and slept most of the afternoon. He glanced at a small
clock on top of the TV and saw that it was after six o’clock.
He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “I guess we should start
thinking about dinner.”

Richie removed his feet from the coffee table and

leaned forward. He reached for the small vase and started
to rearrange the flowers. “We’d better see if we can order
something up. The refrigerator is empty.” When he realized
he said this, he gaped at Toby and said, “I don’t go
snooping around in there. I just wanted to see if there was
anything to drink this morning.”

Toby laughed. “Calm down. I don’t care. And I’ll be the

first one to admit that I’m not the most domestic person in
the world. I hardly ever eat at home. And when I do it’s
always take out.”

Richie pushed the vase to the left and stood up. “I’ll get

the menu to the Chinese take out around the corner. I hear
they never close, not even in the worst weather.”

Toby thought it was interesting that Richie knew where

Toby kept the take out menus. But he didn’t want to

embarrass him so he didn’t say anything. He figured that
Richie probably ordered take out with Brad sometimes.
Toby had come home some nights and he’d smelled
Chinese take out, but he hadn’t seen any cartons or dirty
dishes.

They ordered more food than they should have and

there were tons of leftovers. Toby insisted on paying and
Richie insisted on setting the table and washing clearing
the plates when they were finished. During dinner they
talked about people they knew from the office and laughed
about the night Richie knocked on the doors and Toby
couldn’t figure out how to let him into the office. Richie
admitted he’d thought Toby was a little dumb that first night.
Toby threw a fortune cookie at him and said he wasn’t
dumb he was just tired. After dinner, they went back to the
living room and turned on the TV again.

While they were watching Ed Sullivan, Richie asked,

“Does it bother you that Brad and I are together as a couple
now?”

Toby almost fell sideways. The poor guy didn’t have a

clue that Brad was screwing around on him, too. “Why
should it bother

me

?”

“Well, I know you and Brad were doing something the

night I knocked on the doors. It was kind of obvious, if you
know what I mean. You’re lips were a little swollen.”

Toby cleared his throat and said, “You have nothing to

worry about, trust me. I have no interest in Brad Lindsay
and I never did. Whether or not we ever did anything
together doesn’t matter. If we did do something, it

together doesn’t matter. If we did do something, it
happened once and it was fast. It meant nothing to either of
us, and it was over before it even started. Brad and I aren’t
even good friends. I only see him at the office.”

“I thought you were good friends,” Richie said. “You’re

letting him use your apartment.”

“It was an arrangement that I agreed to,” Toby said. “But

we’re not close and we never socialize outside the office.”
He wanted this to be clear, without being too obvious about
his feelings about Brad. He wasn’t sure he could trust
Richie yet and he didn’t want to bad mouth his boss.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Richie said. “I’d hate to think you

had feelings for Brad and here he is in love with me and
planning a future with me.”

Toby rolled his eyes. This was downright pathetic.

“Don’t worry. I couldn’t care less what Brad does. But I am
curious about a few things.” He glanced at the flower vase.
“Does he bring you flowers all the time?” Maybe Brad did
have at least one redeeming quality.

Richie waved his arm. “Hell no,” he said. “He doesn’t

bring

me

the flowers. I bring the flowers. Brad is way too

important and too busy to have time to think about flowers.
You have to understand those things when you’re with a
busy man like Brad. I get them at a small grocery store on
the way over. And, to be honest, I don’t really bring them for
Brad. I sort of bring them here for you as a thank you for
letting us use the apartment. That’s why I make sure the
place is always clean and perfect. I feel funny about it
sometimes. I know we’re intruding.”

When Richie said this, Toby’s head went up. It hadn’t

occurred to him that Richie was the one bringing the
flowers, or that he was bringing them for Toby. He didn’t
seem like the type of guy who even noticed flowers. A
pleasant feeling passed through Toby’s entire body. “Ah
well, thank you. I have to admit that I do enjoy seeing them
when I come home. In fact, if my arrangement with Brad
stopped the flowers would be the one thing I’d miss about
the entire situation.” He’d miss the way Richie made things
look so nice, too. And the way Richie made the bed. But he
decided it wouldn’t be proper to mention that.

Richie shrugged and he glanced at the TV. Ethel

Merman, Ed Sullivan’s guest that night, was belting out an
annoying show tune and Richie started tapping his foot.
Toby sat back and pretended to watch TV. But he was
really looking at Richie, trying to figure out how such a
decent guy could wind up with a dirty-rotten-cheating-
bottom-feeder like Brad Lindsay. At one point, he almost
told Richie everything about Brad, from the young guys to
the guy dressed as a woman. But he decided it was none
of his business and he got up to use the bathroom instead.

After Ed Sullivan, they watched a few more TV shows

that weren’t very good. At eleven, Toby yawned and said,
“I’m going to bed. This horrible sofa is killing my back.”

Richie laughed. “It’s as hard as a rock. I know what you

mean.”

Up until that point, Toby hadn’t considered the sleeping

arrangements. And now that he’d mentioned how terrible
the sofa was he felt guilty about making Richie sleep on it

all night. It wasn’t much different from sleeping on the
floor…except the floor didn’t have as many lumps. He
yawned again; he stretched his arms as high as they would
go. “If you’d like to sleep in the bedroom, I promise I’ll stay
on my side and you can stay on your side. I’m not trying to
get into your pants or anything. I swear.”

Richie glanced at the hard sofa and frowned. Then he

rubbed his jaw and glanced up at Toby. “I guess that’s all
right. But we’d better keep it our little secret. Brad might get
the wrong idea. If he found out we slept in the same bed he
might get crazy and do something. He’s very possessive of
me. He told me that if I even so much as looked at another
guy he’d beat the hell out of the guy.”

“He said that, did he?” Good old full of shit Brad. Toby

couldn’t picture Brad beating anyone up. But he could
picture Brad running away from a fight.

“Oh yes,” Richie said. “And he means it, too. Brad’s got

it really bad for me and I don’t think he’d understand if he
knew we slept together. Even it if is all innocent. So this will
be our little secret.”

“I’ll remember that,” Toby said. “I’d hate to see poor,

dear Brad get all upset about something that was so
innocent.” He almost choked on his words.

Toby undressed in the bathroom and took a shower. By

the time he came out, Richie was already sitting up in bed
with the covers pulled up to his chest. Toby had forgotten to
bring clean underwear into the bathroom. He didn’t own a
bathrobe because he hated wearing them. He didn’t own
pajamas either; he usually slept in the nude. He’d wrapped

a large bath towel around his waist to cover his body so
Richie wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

He sent Richie a nervous smile and said, “If you’ll turn

out the light I’ll put on my underwear and get into bed.” He
felt awkward changing in front of him with the light on.

When Richie turned out the light, Toby stumbled across

the dark room and stubbed his big toe on the dresser. He
screamed and slammed his fist against the dresser. The
towel fell and he bent down to lift up his foot. The pain shot
from his big to all the way up to his back teeth.

Richie switched on the light and jumped out of bed. He

ran to where Toby was hopping around. “Are you okay? Did
you break something?” He placed his large hand on Toby’s
back and bent down to look at his foot.

The pain was so fierce Toby was biting his bottom lip

and wincing. He rubbed his toe and said, “I’m okay. I don’t
think it’s broken. It just stunned me for a minute.” Then he
lost his balance and fell backward into Richie.

They both landed on the bedroom floor. Richie started

to laugh. He was pinned to the floor by Toby’s naked body
and he couldn’t move. When Toby realized he was stark
naked and the lights were on, he forgot all about his toe and
jumped up as fast as he could. He yanked the top drawer
open and pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. He put them on
so fast he almost fell on top of Richie a second time.

Richie got up and laughed all the way back to the bed.

He was wearing beige boxer shorts that looked a size too
small and his dick was swinging back and forth. When Toby
climbed under the covers, Richie was still laughing. By that

time Toby’s face was warm and his toe was starting to
throb. He pulled the covers up to his chin and said, “I’m glad
you find this all so amusing. I could have broken my foot.”

Richie wiped his eyes and said, “I’m sorry. You just

looked so funny hopping around like that. And poor little
Toby was bouncing around between your legs so much I
was afraid he might fall off.”

Toby folded his arms across his chest and glared at

Richie. He knew Richie was talking about his dick. “What
do you mean ‘

little

Toby

?’ For your information I’ve been

told that I’m rather well endowed in that department. I know
I’m not a god; and I’m certainly not in the ranks of His Royal
Highness, Brad Lindsay, but I’ve never had any complaints
before.”

Richie couldn’t stop laughing. He reached out and

grabbed Toby’s arm with one hand and pressed his palm
to his stomach with the other. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that
way. I swear I didn’t. I think little Toby is adorable. And he’s
not small at all; he’s just the right size. Don’t get all mad and
serious.”

Toby almost smiled. When he thought about what had

just happened he realized it was funny. He yanked his arm
away from Richie and folded both arms across his chest.
“You’re an idiot. You know that, don’t you?” He thought the
way Richie’s nose jiggled when he laughed was kind of
cute.

Richie forced himself to stop laughing. He took a quick

breath and said, “I know I am. I’m a jerk sometimes. I’m
sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Toby said. “I’m just tired. Now turn out the

light so we can get some sleep. This has been a long day.”

A few minutes after Richie switched off the light, Toby

heard Richie sigh out loud. They’d both turned in opposite
directions and they were on their sides. There was no
window in the small bedroom and the room was almost
completely black. The only light came from the doorway,
with snow glistening against the street lights out in the living
room window.

“Are you okay?” Toby asked.
“I guess.”
Toby adjusted his pillow. “I heard you sigh.”
“I was just thinking, is all.”
“About what?”
“I feel like I can be honest with you,” Richie said. “I had

fun tonight. For some reason, I feel like I can trust you.”

“You can.”
Richie sighed again. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been in

a situation like this with a man like Brad.”

“It isn’t?” Toby felt a lump in his throat. He had a feeling

there was a confession coming and he wasn’t sure he
wanted to hear it. He realized he was more than attracted
to Richie by then: he actually liked him more than he wanted
to like him. When he’d fallen on top of him by accident and
he’d felt Richie’s strong legs around his waist, he’d almost
gone fully erect. It took all the strength he had not to turn
over, climb on top of him, and start kissing him.

“I was involved with two married guys before Brad,”

Richie said. “Both times it didn’t work out.”

“I see,” Toby said. But he really didn’t understand. If

Richie had been involved with two married guys before and
both times it hadn’t worked out well why on earth would he
jump right back into the same situation with Brad Lindsay?

“But Brad is different,” Richie said. “He told me he’s

going to talk to his lawyer and see about divorcing his wife.”

This was news to Toby. The last time he’d seen Brad in

the office, he’d heard that Brad was planning a long cruise
that winter with his wife. It was supposed to be a second
honeymoon, a huge surprise Christmas present…along
with a mink coat and diamond earrings. Toby thought about
Brad’s lies, he clenched his fists beneath the covers, and
said, “Do you really think Brad will leave his wife for you?
Does it really seem like a viable option?”

“This time I’m sure Brad is telling the truth,” Richie said.

“This time it’s different. You don’t know him like I do. He’s
got this soft, sensitive side that most people don’t see.”

Toby rolled his eyes and refrained from making a

comment. The only side of Brad Lindsay Toby had ever
seen was the vicious, competitive ad executive who kept
trying to think of ways to get people to buy products they
didn’t need and couldn’t afford. He’d seen the depraved,
cheating side of Brad as well. If there was such a thing,
Toby must have been daydreaming when the sweet,
sensitive side of Brad appeared in public, because he’d
never seen it. But he didn’t want to talk about Brad
anymore. It was getting to difficult not to tell Richie the truth.
This really was none of his business. So Toby slumped
down in the bed and changed the subject. “Did you really

mean what you said before?”

Richie moved around and settled into a comfortable

position. “About what?”

“You know, about little Toby.” He’d always been self-

conscious about the size of his penis. He knew he wasn’t
hung, but he didn’t think he was small either. He was
normal.

Richie snorted. Then he laughed and said, “I really

meant it. You have nothing to worry about in that
department. And I’ll tell you another little secret, too.”

“What’s that?”
“You’ve got one of the nicest rear ends I’ve seen in

ages.”

Toby’s eyes opened wide. He’d been told he had a nice

ass. But it was nice hearing it from a good looking guy like
Richie. “Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t lie about

ass

. Maybe other things; I’m no

saint. But I’d never lie about ass.” Then Richie reached
around and slapped Toby on the ass as hard as he could.

Toby jumped; it was a loud crack. But he was laughing,

too. “You’re an idiot. Get your hands off me and go to bed.”

Chapter Five

If Richie lived to be a hundred years old and he forgot

most of what had happened during his lifetime, he doubted
he would ever forget the night he spent with Toby
MacFarlane during that November snowstorm. Though he
had no way of knowing it at the time, it wasn’t just the most
unusual experience he’d had with a man in bed, it was the
most unusual experience he would

ever

have with a man in

bed.

After they joked around for a few minutes, Toby turned

on his side and remained there for the rest of the night. He
didn’t try to snuggle up against Richie; he didn’t try to brush
into him by accident. Toby didn’t move from his spot more
than a fraction of an inch the entire night. And when Richie
accidentally moved his foot and it brushed up against
Toby’s thigh, Toby moved closer to the edge of the bed, as
far away from Richie as he could get without falling off, and
never said a word. It was as if Toby was completely
repulsed and wanted nothing to do with Richie, which is
something that had never happened to Richie before. Most
homosexual men would have been all over Richie if they’d
been in the same bed.

In the morning, while Richie was still half asleep, Toby

quietly climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom.
Richie opened his eyes and squinted past the bright
stream of sunlight that was coming from the living room
window through the bedroom doorway. He noticed Toby’s

erection; he couldn’t miss it. Toby’s boxer shorts had tented
out and he didn’t try to conceal it because he thought Richie
was still sleeping. Richie was hard, too. He was always
hard in the morning…and Toby was, indeed, a nice looking
guy with a great ass, which only made Richie harder. If
Toby had made an advance, Richie would have turned him
down because he was serious about his relationship with
Brad Lindsay. But it wouldn’t have been easy to turn him
down. Toby had a great ass and those nice full, round lips.
But more than that, he was so sweet and polished and
gentle. These were all qualities in men that made Richie
drool, mostly because they were so out of his reach. It’s a
good thing Toby just went into the bathroom and took a
long, cold shower.

The shower ran for over twenty minutes. Richie gaped

at the bathroom door with his arms across his chest and
wide eyes. He felt a little insulted that Toby hadn’t tried
anything with him that night. The least Toby could have
done was try to grope him. Richie didn’t take rejection well
because he usually didn’t have to deal with it. Then he
wondered how on earth Toby could stand in a cold shower
for so long. He knew they’d lost power sometime during the
night. He’d gone to the bathroom in the middle of the night
and all the lights were out. He knew the water was still
running because he’d been able to flush the toilet. But there
hadn’t been hot water, wouldn’t be any until the power was
restored.

By the time Toby came out of the bathroom, showered

and shaved and ready for work, Richie was sitting up in

bed trying to conceal his erection with a pillow. He was still
a little angry, but he didn’t want Toby to know this. He had
one of those solid dicks that stick up straight and it was
hard to control it. And once he was hard the only way to
make it soft again was release. Toby didn’t help matters.
He had a short white towel wrapped around his waist; his
legs were smooth and silky and he had those cute little
chest muscles that popped and rounded out slightly. The
thought of rubbing his dick up and down Toby’s smooth
thighs only made Richie hold the pillow tighter.

“Good morning,” Toby said, without looking at Richie,

reaching into his closet for clothes. “The electric is out. I’m
going down to the corner for coffee. This is perhaps the
only building in New York with electric ranges and hot water
heaters. I’m pretty sure the store will have power. It’s usually
just these old buildings on this block that lose power during
storms. I’m used to it. Sometimes all we need is one crack
of thunder and we lose power.”

Richie watched him grab a dark gray suit and a white

shirt and a tie. Toby couldn’t have cared less that Richie
was in bed, with a full erection, watching him dress. He
grabbed a fresh pair of boxer shorts from his top drawer
and dark socks from the drawer beneath that. When he
bent down, with his arms full, and reached for his shoes,
Richie leaned over to see it he could get a glimpse of his
ass and said, “Wasn’t it cold in the shower?”

Toby shrugged and stood up before Richie could see

up the towel. “I needed it. It woke me up.” He turned toward
the bedroom doorway and stepped into the living room with

his clothes pressed tightly against his body. “I’ll just get
dressed out here so I don’t bother you. How do you take
your coffee?”

“I’ll go to the store,” Richie said. “Just give me a minute

and I’ll get dressed. I’m fast.” He had no idea how he was
going to get out of bed with the flagpole between his legs.
Though Toby wasn’t his immediate boss, Toby was higher
in rank than Richie and Richie felt obligated to make this
one small gesture. Besides, he’d been squatting in Toby’s
apartment with Brad…for free…and he felt a little guilty
about making this his love nest.

“I don’t mind,” Toby said. “I’m practically dressed

anyway. How do you take your coffee?”

“Black is fine,” Richie said. His balls tightened and his

dick jumped. The towel had separated and Richie could
see all the way up Toby’s left thigh. His skin looked so
smooth and soft Richie pursed his lips without even
realizing it.

Toby sent him a clueless smile, turned to leave, and

closed the bedroom door so he could get dressed alone in
the living room. By the time he returned from the store,
Richie had changed the sheets, made the bed, and
cleaned up the bathroom. He’d also jacked off into one of
Toby’s socks real fast, too, thinking about Toby’s smooth
legs. He was dressed in his regular clothes and he’d have
to borrow a uniform from one of the guys at work. When he
heard the apartment door open, he walked out to the living
room and found Toby standing there with a white paper bag
in each hand.

Toby lifted the bags and smiled. “I got a few doughnuts,

too.” He shrugged and looked down at the floor. “In case
you were hungry or something.”

“Thanks,” said Richie. “That was nice. I’m always

hungry.” He rubbed his stomach and laughed. “I’m a
growing boy.” Then he walked over to Toby, took the bags,
and carried them to the small table near the kitchen. “How
is it out there now?” Toby had gone out in the cold to get
him breakfast. The least he could do was set it up and
serve it.

“It’s not that bad,” Toby said. “The streets are pretty

clear and so are the sidewalks. It’s warmer, too. People are
still shoveling, but it’s passable.”

Richie removed the coffee from one bag and reached

for the other. He knew where everything was in the
apartment by then. He was about to start arranging the
table when Toby picked up his coffee and said, “Well, I’ll
see you at the office.” Then he turned and headed toward
the door.

“You’re leaving already?” Richie asked. “It’s still early.”

He’d never met such a cold, disinterested person. The least
Toby could do is sit with him and keep him company. Did
he have to insult him by leaving this early?

“I’ll have my coffee on the way,” Toby said. “I’ve been

working on something at the office and I’d like to get an
early start.” He seemed to have trouble looking Richie in
the eye, as if he knew a secret Richie didn’t know.

“I see.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Toby said. He opened the front

door and smiled. “Stay as long as you like.” Then he left
without sending him as much as a backward glance.

* * * *

After the night they spent together, they went back to

their regular routines. Brad and Richie would hook up in
Toby’s apartment one or two evenings a week and the only
time Richie saw Toby was when he’d run into him at the
office. They never spoke; just a nod or a smile. They never
told Brad about the night they’d spent together. Richie
didn’t want Brad to get jealous and jump to conclusions.
Brad usually clenched his teeth and made a face when he
heard Richie just talking about other guys.

Richie continued to leave small flower arrangements in

Toby’s apartment and he went to extra lengths to make
sure Toby’s apartment was perfect when he left. He even
started doing little things in Toby’s office, too. When he
cleaned it at night after everyone left, he used a special
cleaner he only used for the big bosses. It had a fragrance
that reminded him of fresh salt air and it lingered for at least
a day. He also left a fresh bouquet of flowers on Toby’s
desk all the time. Though Richie knew Toby never
mentioned any of this special treatment aloud to anyone, he
always winked and thanked Richie for the flowers the next
day when he passed him in the hall.

* * * *

The week before Christmas Richie started to whistle for

no apparent reason. He smiled all the time and walked with

a lighter step. This was the happiest he’d ever been in his
life, especially at Christmastime. He had a man like Brad
Lindsay, who was willing to leave his wife and make Richie
his permanent lover. Richie was so happy he even decided
to try out an experiment with Brad. Since they’d started
seeing each other Richie had always been the submissive
one in bed. He’d always been the one on the bottom. But
Richie knew men like Brad Lindsay better than they knew
themselves, sometimes. So one night, while Brad and
Richie were getting ready to climb into Toby’s bed for one
of their regular love-making sessions after work, Richie
yanked his dick out of his underwear and said, “Why don’t
you bottom tonight.” He shook it up and down and smiled.

Brad was naked by then. He’d already climbed into bed

and he was under the covers. He laughed and said, “I don’t
think so. I’ve never done that before and I’ve never wanted
to do it either. I’m strictly on top. I don’t get fucked.”

Richie smiled. That’s exactly what both of the married

guys he’d been with before had said the first time he’d
suggested this to them. “Let’s just try it out and see what
happens,” Richie said. He was dying to fuck Brad. In fact,
he was dying to fuck in general. He’d always been more of
a top than a bottom. And though he could bottom without
any problem at all, there was something about poking a
tight hole that caused his heart to beat faster.

“I don’t think so,” Brad said. He was still smiling. But

he’d folded his arms across his chest.

Richie dropped his boxer shorts and stepped out of

them. He grabbed his dick, loped to the bed, and climbed

on top of Brad’s body. He moved forward and kneeled in
front of Brad’s face. He rubbed the head of his dick across
Brad’s lips. Then he slapped Brad’s face with the shaft and
said, “C’mon, let’s do it. If you don’t like it we’ll stop and you
can fuck me.”

When his dick touched Brad’s lips, Brad opened his

mouth and licked the shaft. Then he started sucking the
head very slowly, with just his lips. He closed his eyes and
inhaled, as if savoring the taste, the texture, and the smell
all at the same time. He took Richie deeper into his mouth
and rested his hands on Richie’s hairy thighs and let out a
gentle moan of pure satisfaction.

Richie glanced down at him and smiled. He caressed

the top of Brad’s head and pushed his dick all the way to
the back of Brad’s throat. Brad Lindsay was one of the best
cock suckers Richie had ever met: a pure natural. He
sucked with passion and used his lips and his tongue at the
same time. He never complained about discomfort and
kept sucking until Richie was close to climax. And Richie
had never met a great cock sucker who didn’t like to get
fucked…no matter how many times they protested in the
beginning.

When Brad sucked dick, he took his time and enjoyed

every last inch. They started out in this position, with Richie
kneeling, and twenty minutes later Brad was on his back,
sprawled out across the middle of the bed, and Richie was
bucking his hips into Brad’s face. Richie stretched out as if
doing push-ups over Brad’s head, with his palms braced on
the edge of the mattress. His balls were against Brad’s

chin. And Brad was slurping and sucking so hard Richie
had to hold back because he still wanted to fuck him.

At one point, Richie got up and opened a jar of

petroleum jelly. He lathered a few fingers on his right hand
and rubbed the rest on his dick. Then he reached down
between Brad’s legs and lubed his opening. When he did
this, Brad’s entire body tightened and he set his palms
against Richie’s thighs, “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready to finger fuck you,” Richie said. “Just

close your eyes and relax. You’ll like this. Nice and slow,
easy does it.” This was the first time Richie had attempted
to play with Brad’s ass.

“I don’t want to get fucked,” Brad said. “It’s not my thing.”
Richie smiled and inserted the tip of his greased up

middle finger. He moved it around and said, “I’ll just slide
my finger in and out really slow. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
He moved his finger forward and he felt the lips of Brad’s
anus clamp down. It was just as tight as he’d imagined it
would be. His heart began to race and he bit his bottom lip.

“No,” Brad said, “Let’s stop.” He didn’t sound as

convincing this time. His voice wavered and his tone
became softer, with a breathy quality. And Richie noticed
his eyes were closed and his lips were parted.

Richie’s finger went deeper and he started pulling it in

and out slowly. He didn’t want to shock Brad. He just
wanted to open him up and prepare him for the real thing.
“That’s it,” he said. “Just close your eyes and let me do all
the work.” Richie couldn’t deny that he was enjoying this.
The deeper he went the softer it was.

“It’s not that bad,” Brad said. He lifted his legs and

spread them apart. “But that’s it. Just your finger and
nothing else.”

Richie smiled. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what I’m

doing.”

A minute or two later, Richie inserted a second finger

and didn’t even tell Brad he was doing this. When Brad
lifted his legs and moaned out load, Richie started fucking
him with two fingers. A few minutes after that, Richie
inserted a third finger and Brad’s toes curled back. He
even let out a scream, threw his arms back over his head,
and arched his back. If Richie hadn’t known that Brad had
never been with a man this way before, he would have
thought Brad had been getting fucked in the ass all his life.
But that’s usually the way it worked with guys like Brad
Lindsay. They’d deny it and fool themselves into believing
they weren’t interested in getting fucked. They were manly
men, always in control; they only topped. But the minute
Richie spread their legs and went to work they always
wound up begging for more.

Though Richie was certain Brad would be like the

others, he went a little slower with Brad and took his time.
Brad had that aggressive, masculine personality in public
and he seemed to care about his image. In many ways,
Brad overcompensated in order to hide his true identity and
he came off as obnoxious to some people. But Richie knew
he and Brad had something special together and he knew
that one day soon Brad would leave his wife and they’d be
together all the time. Brad’s ass would belong to him then.

Richie didn’t want to ruin it. So Richie didn’t turn him over
until the moment he was certain Brad was ready.

At that point, Richie still had three fingers buried deeply

in Brad’s hole. He glanced down to see if Brad was still
erect. When he saw that Brad’s erection had not
subsided…always a telltale sign…he pulled his fingers out
of Brad’s ass and said, “Okay, now you can fuck me.”

Brad’s head went up. He sent Richie a horrified,

disappointed look. “You’re stopping? I thought

you

were

going to fuck

me

.”

Richie shrugged. He wanted him to beg. “I don’t want to

go too far. You said you don’t like to bottom and I don’t want
to push you into doing anything you don’t want to do.” He
knew this was devious; he could tell by the expression on
Brad’s face that he wanted more.

“I don’t want to let you down either,” Brad said. “If you

want to continue, I’ll be okay. I can suffer through it for your
sake. Just go really easy. I’ve never done this before and
you have a bigger dick than most guys.”

Though Richie was smiling on the inside, he frowned at

Brad and asked, “Are you sure? I mean I really want to fuck
you. But I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to
do. And I’ll be fine if you say no. I’m serious.”

Brad shrugged and turned over on his stomach. He

spread his legs and arched his back. “I’m sure. I’ll be okay. I
want you to enjoy yourself and do whatever you want. And if
it means you have to fuck me once in a while, I can make
the sacrifice. I can take the pain.”

This, Richie knew, was a bold faced lie. He almost

laughed in Brad’s face. After the finger fuck tease, Brad
wanted a big dick so badly he was ready to beg for it. So
Richie climbed on top of Brad and mounted him very
slowly. The moment he entered, Brad’s body went rigid for
a moment, but that didn’t last long. As Richie went deeper,
Brad’s hole relaxed and he let out a long sigh. And when
Richie was all the way in, Brad stretched out his arms,
spread his legs wider, and whispered, “Ah yes, don’t stop.”

“It feels okay?”
“Just shut up and fuck me,” Brad said. “Oh, fuck,

deeper.

Deeper

. Fucking split me open.”

Richie smiled and moved his hips forward. He wound

up riding Brad until the bed moved away from the wall and
the lamps on the end tables were jiggling. The mattress
went lopsided, the covers fell to the floor, and the sheets
pulled away from the corners. How the pillows wound up on
the other side of the room was anybodies guess. Richie
hadn’t been paying attention to anything but fucking Brad.
The harder Richie pounded him, the more Brad wanted. He
begged for it, using filthy, raunchy words Richie had never
heard Brad use before that night. At one point, Brad started
to scream with such force Richie had to shove his fingers
into Brad’s mouth to keep him quiet so the neighbors
wouldn’t call the cops. And if Richie tried to slow down for
even a second to catch his breath, Brad reached around,
slapped Richie’s thigh, and said, “Harder; deeper; don’t
stop…a little to the left…that’s it.”

After they came, Brad wanted to do it all over again. “I

want to do it on my back this time, with my legs over your

want to do it on my back this time, with my legs over your
shoulders.”

Richie was drenched in perspiration and he wanted to

take a quick shower. He also knew that Toby would be
coming home soon and he didn’t want Toby waiting outside
in the cold. “Next time I’ll fuck you that way. We have to get
up and leave now. You have to get home and we have to
get out of this apartment.”

Brad sulked. “I guess you’re right.”
On his way to the bathroom, Richie turned and asked,

“Have you talked with your attorney about leaving your wife
yet?”

Brad was on the end of the bed, still sulking. Brad

normally didn’t shower after they had sex. “I haven’t had
time yet. But I will. I promise.”

Richie smiled. Now that he knew how much Brad liked

to get fucked it only made things better. They were the
perfect couple: totally versatile in bed. They’d live happily-
ever-after and nothing would ever come between them.
“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute and I’ll take care of the bed and
cleaning up. You can leave without me. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”
Richie walked back to the bed and kissed him on the

mouth. It was one of those long, slow romantic kisses that
Richie loved more than sex. “I’m sure. I’ll see you later this
week as planned.” They’d planned on getting together at
Toby’s apartment on Christmas Eve for a few hours after
work. Richie had been saving his money for months to buy
Brad a new watch. And he was certain Brad would have a
wonderful present for him.

wonderful present for him.

Brad reached down and grabbed Richie’s dick. He

buried his face between Richie’s legs. He squeezed
Richie’s balls and he kissed Richie’s dick. “I’ll see you
then.”

By the time Richie came out of the bathroom, Brad was

gone. Though they usually left together, this time Richie was
glad he had a few minutes alone in the apartment. He
wanted to make sure everything was spotless and put back
to normal. He also wanted to arrange the little Christmas
tree he bought for Toby. Richie hadn’t seen any signs of
Christmas in Toby’s apartment all season. There wasn’t a
wreath on the door, a stocking on the window sill, or a sprig
of mistletoe above the doorway. For some reason, this
tugged at Richie’s heart. Though he knew a smart,
educated guy like Toby would never be interested in him,
he couldn’t deny that he had feelings for Toby. He wanted to
brighten up Toby’s Christmas, but in a subtle, discreet way
that wouldn’t make Toby uncomfortable. So he stopped at a
small florist shop on the way over earlier that evening and
bought a tiny little Christmas tree, fully decorated with little
colored lights. He didn’t even tell Brad he bought it. He
arrived at the apartment first and set the tree in a corner
next to the sofa where he knew Brad wouldn’t look.

When the sheets were changed and everything was

perfect, Richie went to the sofa and pulled the tree out of a
long narrow box. He set it up on a small table in front of the
window and plugged in the lights. There was a tiny angel on
top, with the sweetest face and long brown hair. He was
hoping Toby would see the lights from the street before he

got upstairs. But if he didn’t see them from the street, he
knew Toby would be surprised when he walked into his
dark apartment and saw a Christmas tree shining in his
window.

When Richie was outside on the sidewalk, before he

turned in the direction of the subway, he glanced up at
Toby’s living room window. The little Christmas tree
gleamed with multi-colored lights and made an otherwise
gray, depressing building come to life. It looked even better
from a distance than it did up close. Richie turned in the
opposite direction and shoved his hands into his pockets.
He smiled at passersby and thought about his bright future
with Brad Lindsay. It was only a matter of time and they
would be together as a real couple. Full time, live-in male
lovers who would never be alone again. By the time Richie
reached the subway platform he was whistling

Silent Night

and people were giving him strange looks.

Chapter Six

After the frustrating, depressing night Toby spent with

Richie during the snowstorm, he decided it was time to get
out there and meet more men like himself. He’d grown tired
of cold showers. He was sick of being so goody-goody all
the time. He knew a hot guy like Richie would never be
interested in someone as simple and plain as him. After he
brought the coffee and doughnuts to Richie, he walked to
work that morning in the snow both mentally and physically
drained. His mind raced with images of how wonderful
Richie looked in his bed, and his genitals ached because
he hadn’t been able to release all that pent up sexual
energy. And he vowed, on the corner of Madison Avenue,
right outside his office building, he’d never place himself in
a situation like that again. He also vowed that his awful
arrangement with Brad Lindsay would end at the beginning
of the New Year. Even if it meant he’d lose his job.

The weekend following the Thanksgiving snow storm,

Toby went out to dinner with Rosemary and a friend of hers
from Brooklyn. Rosemary’s friend worked in a large
museum and was paid well for what he did. His name was
Bill Weiss and he wore tweedy coats and thick wool
sweater vests. He spoke with an affected British accent,
smoked a pipe, and claimed he’d traveled Europe with
Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. He also dropped well
known names like Billy Baldwin and Sister Parish, the well
known interior designers, and said he’d dined with

Tennessee Williams in New Orleans many times.

Toby laughed when Bill tended to be critical of the

bourgeois and refused to eat in a restaurant unless the
waiters were good looking young men in tight black slacks.
Though it was hard for Toby to figure this out at a glance, he
assumed Bill was in his mid-forties because of his graying
hair and the faint lines around his eyes. But he could have
been older.

Toby wasn’t romantically interested in Bill, but he found

his wit refreshing and his stories about the rich and famous
fascinating. On that first night after Rosemary
hadintroduced them, Bill looked Toby up and down and
said, “He’ll do.” Toby just smiled and shook Bill’s hand.
During dinner, they talked about Toby’s career in
advertising and how frustrated he was with his work. Toby
didn’t mention he was frustrated about his arrangement
with his boss. He only mentioned how much he was
beginning to depise creating slogans for snow tires, baby
food ads, and TV commercials about mass produced
bottled salad dressings that tasted vile.

When Bill Weiss talked about his job at the museum,

Toby leaned forward and listened to him without saying a
word. He’d never heard so many interesting stories in his
life; he’d never met anyone who knew so many famous
people and was so well connected in all the best social
circles. Bill Weiss made Toby’s tacky bosses at the ad
agency look like rank amateurs hawking rubbish right out of
a trash can. And Toby wasn’t shy about mentioning that
he’d love to get a job doing something like Bill did, in the

future.

After dinner, Bill and Toby walked Rosemary outside

and she kissed Toby on the cheek and said, “I’ll talk to you
next week. I’m at the hospital all day tomorrow and
Monday.”

Toby sent her a glance. He thought they’d be going

home together. It was almost eleven and Toby rarely stayed
out later than midnight. “You’re going home alone?”

Rosemary smiled. “I thought you two might want to go

out for an after dinner drink or something and get to know
each other better.”

Bill’s head went back and he laughed. “I was thinking

more along the lines of ‘or something.’” Then he winked at
Toby.

Toby gulped. He wasn’t sexually attracted to Bill and he

had no intention of doing anything with him. “I’m not sure I
understand,” he said, looking deeper into Rosemary’s eyes
for help.

“Calm down,” she said. “I just thought it would be nice if

Bill showed you around town a little. You know, to meet
more people like yourself. I think it will be good for you. And
no one knows this city batter than Bill.”

Bill patted Toby’s back. “I’ll take good care of you. No

need to look so upset,

dee-ah

.”

Toby frowned. He didn’t like the sound of this. Evidently,

Rosemary and Bill had planned this together and hadn’t
bothered to mention it to him.

Bill kissed Rosemary on the cheek and said, “Don’t

worry about him. He’s in good hands. I promise I won’t let

anything happen to him.” He patted Toby on the back again
and smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. I know this
city better than anyone, and I know where to go, what to do,
and how to do it the right way.”

Before Toby had a chance to back out, a cab pulled up

and Bill helped Rosemary into the back seat. Bill shut the
door so fast Toby barely had time to wave good-bye. As
Toby watched the cab head toward the avenue, Bill placed
his hand on Toby’s back and pushed him forward. “I think
we’ll take a little stroll downtown. There’s always some kind
of action going on down there. You’ll love it. We’ll be
voyeurs tonight.”

The rest of the night turned out to be a crash course in

how to be a homosexual male in New York without getting
into too much trouble. Bill made it clear in the beginning that
he wasn’t sexually interested in Toby…he said he preferred
his men rough and dumb, with tattoos and scars, not
handsome and smart. This made Toby laugh. After that, he
stopped worrying but paid attention to every word Bill said.

Bill took him to quiet places down narrow staircases

where men went to meet other men. The first bar in the
West Village was in a basement so dark and smoky Toby
almost tripped on a bar stool. It was a little like the places
Toby had been to before, but different in a few fundamental
ways. This one was more private, and the men were
rougher looking and more serious. Bill laughed and said
they had a back room there were all kinds of action
happened every night of the week. He said he wasn’t into
that sort of thing but some men liked it “sleazy.” He told

Toby places like this were often raided by the police just for
pure sport. They didn’t stay there long.

Bill used the word “rendezvous” a lot and talked about

handing out fake phone numbers to strange men just to be
polite. Then he took Toby to a few more bars and discreet
hang outs and even showed him how to cruise the parks at
night. According to Bill, if there was a dark section in a park
surrounded by shrubs and trees, there were always men
looking for other men. Bill went into detail about the
dangers involved, and he warned Toby about catching
venereal diseases that ran rampant. Though the diseases
could be treated, the doctors who treated them always
looked down on homosexual men, called them “sick,” and
made them feel inferior.

While they walked and Bill spoke, Toby had a feeling he

should have been taking notes. There was so much to
absorb that he felt overwhelmed. Up until that night, his life
had revolved around work, family, and his apartment. All he
wanted to do was meet a nice guy like Richie and have a
life. He had no idea it was all this complicated. One thing
that really frightened him was when Bill made a point of
telling Toby to always make sure he cruised a homosexual
and not a straight guy. Bill said just one wrong look could
be dangerous. Cruising a straight guy could land him in the
hospital with a smashed up face and broken bones. Bill
frowned and said he knew one guy who’d been killed after
he’d cruised the wrong guy on the Upper West side, in
Riverside Park.

As Toby became more comfortable with Bill, Toby

asked general questions about meeting men and Bill was
more than happy to answer them. When the taxi dropped
Toby off at his building, it was after three in the morning and
Toby had no idea where the time had gone. He shook Bill’s
hand and said, “I had fun tonight. My head is spinning and
it’s going to take a few days to process everything you’ve
shown and told me, but I had the best time I’ve had since I
moved to the city. I can’t thank you enough and I’m glad
Rosemary introduced us.”

Bill tilted his head and smiled. He gave Toby his phone

number and said, “Call me at the museum on Monday and
we’ll get together for lunch. And I promise you, it’s really my
actual number.” He looked him up and down and thought for
a moment. “There’s going to be a job opening at the
museum and I think you’d be perfect for it.”

Toby’s eyes opened wider. “I love to be considered for

it. I’m not too fond of what I’m doing right now. It’s not at all
what I thought it would be.” He thought about his boss and
their arrangement and his stomach pulled.

“We’ll talk about it over lunch,” Bill said.
On Sunday morning, Brad Lindsay phoned at nine and

woke Toby out of a deep sleep. “Hey, buddy,” he said, in
his usual cheerful voice, “I was wondering if I could come
over this afternoon for a couple of hours. It wasn’t planned.”

Toby rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. Though

Brad didn’t usually bring his young men to the apartment on
weekends, there were exceptions. Toby figured Brad’s wife
must have had an event that afternoon and Brad had
nothing to do. “Ah well, I guess it’s okay. What time?” At this

point, it didn’t matter. He figured he’d let Brad have a few
more weeks of fun. He was going to put an end to this
arrangement.

“I was thinking around eleven,” Brad said.
“But that’s still

morning

. You said afternoon.”

“It’s almost afternoon,” Brad said. “We’ll only be there

until one. I promise.”

Toby knew he didn’t have any choice at that point. He

couldn’t risk saying no this close to the holidays. He could
lose his job and he needed the money. “I guess it’s okay. I’ll
be out of here by ten thirty.”

When he left the apartment, he kicked a trash can in the

street, imagining it was his boss’s face. He took a long
walk downtown, wondering how he was going to kill two
hours on a Sunday morning. Though it was bright and sunny
out, there was a cutting breeze that smacked him in the
face with each step he took. He passed shops that were
decorated for Christmas. In one window, not far form his
apartment, he stopped and stared at the most beautiful little
artificial Christmas tree he’d ever seen. It was fully
decorated, with multicolored lights. And at the very top,
there was an angel with the sweetest smile and long brown
hair. He came close to walking into the shop and buying it.
It was perfect for his living room window. This was his first
year alone in his own apartment and he hadn’t thought
about holiday decorations at all. He’d been too consumed
with work and with his boss’s extracurricular activities.
When he remembered his arrangement with Brad and what
was going on in his apartment at that moment, he sighed

and continued walking down the street with his shoulders
slumped forward.

When he returned to the apartment at two in the

afternoon, he found everything just as he’d left it. But there
wasn’t a flower arrangement on the coffee table and he
knew the man Brad had been with that afternoon wasn’t
Richie. Since the night he’d spent with Richie, they’d run
into each other at work in passing almost every day. He
noticed Richie left flowers on his desk and his office
smelled fantastic. But they’d never actually spoken. He
wondered if the poor guy still believed Brad Lindsay was
going to divorce his wife. This bothered Toby so much at
times he had trouble pushing it to the back of his mind.

After a three hour nap on Sunday afternoon, Toby woke

up with a huge erection and decided to go out that night.
Why should Brad Lindsay have all the fun at everyone
else’s expense? Toby didn’t think it was fair that he sat
alone in his apartment like a monk waiting for something to
happen. He wasn’t married; he was single and free to do
whatever he wanted to do. Toby knew he would never meet
a man if he didn’t get out and take the initiative. So he put
on his tightest dark pants, a black turtle neck sweater, and
a slick pair of black pointy shoes with Cuban heels. He’d
purchased the shoes on a whim. He’d seen a singing star
wearing them on TV and he thought they were sexy. Then
he remembered a few of the places Bill Weiss had taken
him the night before and he headed downtown to see what
he’d been missing.

Though he thought about cruising one of the parks Bill

had shown him, he decided he wasn’t ready for that yet.
Cruising any of the dark places Bill had talked about
caused his hands to shake inside his pockets. He kept
thinking about catching a venereal disease and the dismal
trip he’d have to take to the doctor’s office. When he
thought about running into the wrong guys and getting his
ass kicked, he felt a wave of nausea. So he went to the
small bar in the West Village where he knew for sure he’d
be with other men like himself. Bill had mentioned this
particular bar had a back room, where all kinds of
interesting things happened, and he was curious about
what it was like there.

When he arrived at the bar, he saw a young man with

unusually long blond hair turn a corner and walk down a
short flight of steps. The young man was about Toby’s age,
with an obvious overbite he wasn’t trying to hide. He had
his hands in his pockets and he was smiling in a carefree
way that suggested he wasn’t too bright and might stumble
over his own big feet at any moment. He seemed so
comfortable Toby followed him down the stairs to a thick
metal door that reminded Toby of the back entrance to a
warehouse. Toby lifted his head and tried to be just as
carefree and casual; he wanted to look just as dumb. The
young man pushed the door open and Toby followed him
into a dark, smoky room with a few tables and chairs and a
narrow wooden bar along the right wall. It smelled like stale
tobacco and damp towels and men.

The young man continued walking toward the back. But

Toby stopped at the bar, pulled out a heavy captain’s chair,

and sat down. He didn’t want to trip this time. The bartender
had a thick mustache and broad shoulders. He wore a tight
white T-shirt that exposed bulging biceps. He walked over
to Toby and said, “What can I get for you?”

“Ah well, I’ll have a highball.” Toby wasn’t much of a

drinker; he had no idea what a highball was. He’d heard
someone order it on TV and it was the first thing that
popped into his head. After he ordered it, he wished he’d
ordered a beer instead. That’s decided to stick with it and
take his chances.

While he sipped his drink, he glanced around the bar.

There was some kind of jazz music playing. He wasn’t
familiar with the style, but it had a heavy saxophone sound.
It was tuneless drivel that annoyed Toby to the point where
he started jiggling his right leg. The bar was so dark he
wasn’t sure where the music was coming from. At one
table, he watched two good looking young men kissing.
Along the back wall, there were two other men standing;
they were locked in a tight embrace. The taller man was
kissing and groping the shorter man. When Toby turned
and saw two men dancing slowly, his eyes opened wider.
He’d never seen two men dance that way in public. And
when he saw one guy slid his hands down another guy’s
pants while they were dancing, he pressed his palm to his
throat and gaped at them.

At least the highball wasn’t bad. It had a sweet taste and

it went down easy. Before Toby knew it, he was on his third
highball and his leg wasn’t jiggling anymore. His lips felt a
little numb and the men around him didn’t seem as

dangerous. A tall man with dark hair and five o’clock
shadow sat down beside him and said, “I haven’t seen you
around here before. I’m Jake.”

Toby shrugged. “I’ve never been here before. I’m Toby.”

He almost used a fake name. He didn’t want anyone at
work knowing he went to places like this. Bill Weiss had
mentioned to Toby that a lot of homosexual men use fake
names, for protection, and to reinvent themselves.

Jake moved closer to him and said, “It’s nice to meet

you, Toby. Can I buy you another drink?” He had a smooth
deep voice and large brown eyes. He reminded Toby of
one of the models his ad agency used for cigarette ads: the
rugged, lanky, cowboy type.

Toby had just finished his third highball and he couldn’t

feel his legs anymore. But he wasn’t too drunk to know what
was happening and he figured one more couldn’t hurt. They
tasted so good. “Sure,” he said, with a slight slur. “I’d love it,
Jake.”

While Toby sipped his fourth drink, they spoke for a few

minutes about how hard it was to meet men and how boring
it was to go to bars and cruise the parks. He assumed
Jake was in his thirties. Though Toby didn’t frequent bars
often, and he’d never cruised a public park, he played
dumb and agreed with everything Jake said, pretending to
be just as experience, as jaded. But on the inside Toby was
excited and eager to see what would happen next. The few
times he’d been to places like this he’d never actually gone
with the intention of meeting someone. He’d always gone
with the intention of watching from a distance, to see what

was happening, and he never stayed long enough to order
a second drink.

A few minutes later, another guy sat down on the other

side of Toby and said, “So what’s going on over here?”

Jake smiled and said, “We’re just hanging out. This is

young Toby.” He rested his palm on Toby’s thigh and
smiled. “Right?”

Toby nodded yes. Jake’s large, strong hand felt good

on his leg and he made no attempts to move. Being
touched by a man, in public, felt nice. He felt like moving
over and sitting on his lap. He asked the other guy, “Do you
two know each other?” A lot of the guys in there seemed to
be friendly. Toby wondered how they all actually met each
other.

Jake laughed and the other guy said, “We’re a couple.”
Toby swallowed the last of his fourth drink and

hiccupped. “A couple of what?”

Jake put his arm around Toby and hugged him. “We’re

a couple. We’re lovers. We live together.” He nodded at the
other guy and said, “This is Ted. We’ve been together for
ten years and we come here once in a while to spice things
up a little in the bedroom. There’s always something going
on in the back room.”

Toby turned to Ted and smiled. Jake was feeling up his

ass now. Toby never actually been felt up by a man in public
and he was enjoying it a little too much for his own good.
And Ted wasn’t bad looking either. He had the same tall,
dark rugged qualities Jake had; only he was stockier. They
could have been brothers. “Ah well, I’ve never met a

couple

before.”

Jake and Ted laughed, and then Ted leaned over and

put his arm around Toby, too. “How about we go to the
back room and see what’s going on. You’re a sweet little
thing. I’ll bet your game for anything.”

Though Toby was light-headed, and his speech wasn’t

perfect, he knew what was happening. He just didn’t
completely understand it. “Let me get this straight. If you’re
a couple, why do you both have your arms around me?” He
wasn’t complaining. It felt good to be sandwiched in
between two big strong men with stubble. He was fully erect
and he’d arched his back a little so they could both slide
their hands down the back of his pants.

Ted leaned in and kissed Toby on the ear. “We like

three-ways with cute young guys like you. We have an open
arrangement.”

Toby laughed. “Oh, I know all about

arrangements

. I

have an

arrangement

, too. You should meet my fucking

boss.”

Jake slid his hand all the way down Toby’s pants and

grabbed his ass. He didn’t seem to care about Toby’s
boss. “We do it all the time. Like I said, it spices things up
in the bedroom.”

Toby wasn’t wearing a belt or underwear. He felt the

button on his pants pop open and two large hands slide
down to the bottom of his ass. He reached up and
caressed Ted’s rough face and said, “You guys are bad.”
Then he turned to Jake and rubbed his stomach. “I guess it
would be okay to go to the back room for a while.”

“You’re not wearing underwear,” Jake said. “I think

you’re bad, too.” He kissed him on the lips and Toby
responded by wrapping his arms around Jake’s shoulders
and shoving his tongue into his mouth.

Then Toby turned and kissed Ted the same way. These

guys were so nice. And they were good-looking, too. It
seemed like a good opportunity to get some experience. “I
like you guys,” he said.

Ted and Jake exchanged glances without speaking,

and then they pulled their hands out of Toby’s pants and
stood up.

When Toby stood, the room started to spin a little. But it

was nothing he couldn’t handle. For the first time in his life,
he felt completely free to be who he was and do what he felt
like doing. As he crossed the dark bar, still sandwiched
between Ted and Jake, he knew his pants were wide open
and half his ass was showing. He knew the other guys in
the bar could see him and he didn’t give a damn what they
thought. In fact, he liked the way they were watching him. He
didn’t even attempt to pull his pants up. He let them fall
down as he walked, and he wiggled his ass on purpose so
the other guys wouldn’t miss anything.

The back room was even darker than the bar. There

were men having sex in various positions all over the place.
Some leaned against the walls and watched while they held
their dicks. Toby wasn’t sure where to look first. He wasn’t
sure how he felt about all this either. It wasn’t something he
would have done sober. In one corner of the room he saw
the young blond guy he’d followed into the bar on his knees

sucking three guys off at the same time. The blonde guy
was naked and he wasn’t coming up for air. His big buck
teeth worked those dicks as if he were chowing down on
corn cobs. And there was a huge boil that looked as if it
were ready to burst in the middle of his back. In another
corner, he saw two extremely large men in black leather
outfits kissing under a dim red light. Jake started kissing
Toby’s neck; Ted pulled Toby’s pants down even lower.

It wasn’t long before they removed Toby’s jacket and his

sweater. Though his pants were around his ankles and his
shoes were still on, he was almost completely naked in a
room full of strange men and Ted and Jake were devouring
his entire body with their mouths. Their heavy beards felt
rough against his nipples. He cradled their heads in each
hand as they licked his torso. At one point, when he knew
the other men were watching him, he lifted his arms all the
way up and arched his back.

The men who had been leaning against the walls

jacking off stepped forward. It wasn’t long before a crowd
gathered and more men started groping Toby. They walked
him back to a pool table and slowly turned him around so
that his ass was facing them. But when one of the men
older men climbed up on the pool table and pulled out his
dick, Toby’s stomach tightened. He’d never seen wiry, gray
pubic hair. He’d never seen an older guy’s crooked dick
before. This one had wrinkles and too many veins swirling
around the shaft in all directions. And when the older man
shoved his dick into Toby’s face and Toby got a whiff of the
strong, sour vinegar smell coming from between the older

man’s legs, Toby’s entire body went rigid and he sobered
up fast. It was the worst thing he’d ever smelled in his life…
and more aggressive than smelling salts. It reminded him of
a combination of mustard, vinegar, and burnt meatloaf. And
it sobered him up immediately.

Toby realized he didn’t want to do this. He wanted to

smack that tired old wrinkled dick. He wanted to get
dressed and get out of there as fast as he could. He
remembered everything Bill Weiss had told him about
venereal disease, and then he remembered the humiliating
trips to the doctor’s office. He started to think about what
would happen if there was a raid and the police found him
standing there naked surrounded by a group of men, one
with gray pubic hair and a decrepit dick. But Toby knew he
had to be careful. These guys were drunk and there was no
telling what they could do to him.

So he caressed Ted’s back and whispered into Ted’s

ear with his softest tone. “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be
right back.” He figured it was a plausible excuse to get
away without being rude. He’d pull up his pants, grab his
shirt and jacket, and made a run for the exit.

Ted smiled and said, “Just piss right here. They won’t

mind.”

Toby blinked. He glanced down and saw two guys on

their knees looking up at him.

“I’d rather just go to the bathroom,” he said. This was

getting worse. Bill never told him the guys liked to be peed
on in back rooms. “I’ll be right back.”

Ted laughed. “You want to get out of here, don’t you?”

“Oh dear God, yes.”
“Don’t worry,” Ted said. “I’ll get you out safe and sound.

It’s okay.” Then he glanced at Jake and said, “We’re going
to take him to the bathroom.”

Jake looked confused. “Huh?” He was still licking

Toby’s thigh.

A few of the guys started to protest. The old guy was

slapping his wrinkled, veiny dick against Toby’s back. One
of guys kneeling on the floor actually begged Toby to pee in
his face. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and
stuck out his tongue. But Ted and Jake helped Toby pull up
his pants and gather his clothes. They pushed the other
guys away and walked him back out to the bar. The guy
who had been begging for Toby to pee on him grabbed
Toby’s ankle and Toby had to shake his leg and kick the
fool in the face to keep walking.

When they reached the exit, Toby grabbed Ted’s hand

and said, “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know what I
was thinking.” He turned to Jake and shrugged. “I can’t
thank you guys enough for helping me get out of there.”

Ted patted his ass and said, “I can’t say I’m not

disappointed. You’re adorable. But we understand. It’s
okay.”

Jake leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m just

glad you ran into us tonight instead of the rest of those
creeps back there. I hate to think about what could have
happened to you. You really have to be more careful. You’re
too pretty to be a tease. You were lucky this time. But if
you’re going to put out the signals in a place like this, you’d

better be prepared to follow through with them.”

“I know,” Toby said. “I’m sorry. I can’t thank you enough.”

Then he kissed them both good-bye and got out of there as
fast as he could.

He didn’t take a deep breath until he reached Seventh

Avenue South and Christopher. He couldn’t get the smell of
old man dick out of his nose. His head was spinning now
and there was ringing in his ears from that God awful,
tuneless jazz music. He wondered how that Beat crowd
could enjoy music like that without losing their minds. He
didn’t feel like walking all the way back to his apartment so
he hailed a cab. The only thing he wanted to do was go
home and shower for about four hours. After that, he wasn’t
sure what he was going to do next.

Chapter Seven

On Christmas Eve, Toby stopped on the other side of

the street and stared up at his living room window. It had
snowed lightly earlier that day and there was a fine layer of
white fluff resting on each windowsill. Toby’s living room
window was the only window in the building with a small,
decorated Christmas tree. He’d left the Christmas tree
lights plugged in all day so he could see the tree shining in
his window when he came home from work that night.

He’d had a long, stressful day in the office and he

couldn’t wait to fill his tub and soak for a few hours. He
wished the Christmas tree was in his bathroom so he could
sit in the tub and stare at it. He would never forget the day
he came home and found the tree there. He’d seen it from
the street and covered his open mouth with his palm,
wondering if that was really his apartment. When he went
upstairs, he sat on the sofa and stared at it all night.

It was the same exact Christmas tree he’d seen in the

shop window the night he’d had that dismal experience at
the bar in the West Village. No one outside his family had
ever done anything that nice for him before. He knew Richie
had set the tree up, just as he’d left the flower arrangements
on the coffee table. It was as if Richie had read his mind,
because there was no way Richie could have known how
much Toby wanted to buy that tree. Toby made sure he
winked at Richie and thanked him the next time he saw him
at work. He would have done more, but it wouldn’t have

been appropriate under the circumstances.

Toby crossed the street slowly and didn’t rush upstairs.

He had plenty of time before he had to meet Rosemary in
the hallway. He was going out to dinner that Christmas Eve
with Rosemary, Bill Weiss, and a few other friends he’d met
through Bill. Two of those friends also happened to be Ted
and Jake, the guys he’d met at the bar in the West Village.
It turned out Ted and Jake were good friends with Bill, and
Toby had no idea until he showed up at a Christmas
cocktail party Bill threw and saw them standing in Bill’s
kitchen. At first, Toby froze and panicked. But Ted and
Jake didn’t go into the sordid details about the night they
met Toby in the bar. They just laughed and told Bill they’d
met Toby somewhere downtown.

When Toby reached the top of the second floor, he

wondered if poor Richie Santori had heard about what
happened to Brad Lindsay. But he pushed that terrible
thought from his mind and focused on more positive things.
It was Christmas Eve; he was going out with good friends;
he didn’t want to think about things that would bring him
down. And they were all going to celebrate Toby’s new job
at the museum. Toby had kept this information quiet at the
advertising agency. He wasn’t going to give his bosses
notice until after the New Year because he wouldn’t be
starting the new job at the museum until February first. At
least he wouldn’t have to talk to Brad Lindsay about putting
an end to their disgusting arrangement. This had already
been taken care of, Toby had his apartment all to himself
again, and he had nothing to worry about anymore.

When he inserted the key into his door, he could almost

feel the hot bath water against his back. He stepped inside
and smiled at his Christmas tree. But when he closed the
door and switched on the lights, he pressed his palm to his
chest and screamed. There was a naked man standing in
the middle of his living room. A good looking naked man,
too, with a lean muscular stomach, beefy legs that were
covered with soft brown hair, and large square chest
muscles. The naked man had a Santa hat on his head, a
silky white beard covering his face, and a big red bow tied
around his dick. He stood there gaping at Toby, as if
unable to move, with his legs spread wide and a red sack
hanging over his left shoulder. He had his semi-erect dick
in his right hand and he was pointing it right at Toby.

“

Who are you

?” Toby asked, reaching for the doorknob,

ready to flee.

The naked man pulled down the beard and covered his

dick with the red satchel. “It’s me, Richie. Calm down. What
are you doing home now?”

Toby took a deep breath and exhaled. He’d never been

so frightened in his life. The last thing he expected to see
was Richie standing in the middle of his living room,
completely naked, waving his big floppy dick. “I live here,”
Toby said. “I didn’t think you’d be here after what
happened.”

Richie wrapped the empty red satchel around his waist

and stared at Toby with a clueless expression. “I’d
assumed that Brad had mentioned we’d be meeting here
on Christmas Eve. It’s been planned for a while.” The red

satchel was large enough to cover most of his groin. But
Toby could still see a dark patch of pubic hair and part of
his balls. “And stop staring at me that way. You look like
you’ve never seen a naked man before.”

Toby blinked and looked up at Richie’s face. “I’m sorry,”

he said. “To be honest, I never have seen a naked man in a
Santa suit.” Richie wasn’t wearing socks or shoes; just two
more red bows tied around his ankles. It was the sexiest
thing Toby had ever seen.

“Give me your coat,” Richie said.
“Huh?”
“Give me your coat so I can put it on. I feel naked.”
“But you

are

.”

“Just give me the damn coat.”
Toby quickly removed his black top coat and handed it

to Richie from the other side of the room. He made sure he
looked up at the ceiling so Richie wouldn’t feel self-
conscious. That’s when it occurred to him that Richie knew
nothing about Brad not being at the office. His chest caved
in and he felt like turning around and running back down to
the street.

After Richie put on the coat, he removed the satchel and

tossed it on the chair. He pulled off the Santa hat and the
beard and tossed them on top of it. The coat only came
down to his upper thighs and exposed almost all of his legs.
He didn’t bother to remove the bow around his dick and his
ankles, which caused Toby’s imagination to kick into
overdrive.

“I can’t believe Brad forgot to tell you we’d be meeting

on Christmas Eve,” Richie said, as he walked to the kitchen
to get a cup of coffee. “I’m going to kill him. But I’m sorry I
frightened you. I never would have been standing there in
this get up if I’d known you were coming home.”

“Ah well,” Toby said. He couldn’t stop thinking about the

red bow around Richie’s dick. He wanted to get down on
his knees and untie the red bows around Richie’s sexy
ankles and lick his toes. But he knew he had to tell Richie
everything and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He couldn’t
let him continue to believe Brad was still coming. So he
cleared his throat and asked, “When was the last time you
talked to Brad?”

Richie asked, “Do you want coffee? I made a fresh pot

for Brad.” He seemed so happy and so carefree.

“No, I’m Fine,” Toby said. He wanted a highball.
“I never talk to Brad unless it’s really important,” Richie

said. “He’s very discreet. The last time I saw Brad was here
in this apartment, and we made definite plans to meet here
on Christmas Eve. And I’m on vacation this week, so I
haven’t seen him in the office. They said because I didn’t
take vacation for the past two years I had to take it this
week. If I didn’t, they said I’d wind up losing the vacation
days. So I figured I’d better.”

“So that’s why I haven’t seen you around,” Toby said. “I

just figured you were busy working on another floor or
something.” There were times when he didn’t see Richie
around and this wasn’t unusual. He glanced at the dining
table and saw a small gift wrapped box with a huge red
bow. Richie must have been planning to exchange

Christmas presents with Brad.

“No, I’ve been on vacation since Monday.”
“I think you’d better come over here and sit down on the

sofa,” Toby said.

Richie turned and faced him. He walked into the living

room and tilted his head sideways. “Why? What’s wrong?
Did something happen to Brad?”

“Ah well.” Toby glanced down at his shoes and rubbed

his jaw. “Why don’t you sit down.”

“He’s dead,” Richie said. “I knew it was too good to be

true. I knew something terrible would happen. Oh my God.
How did it happen? When did it happen?”

Toby lifted his arms. “He’s not dead. Please, just sit

down.”

“I don’t want to sit,” Richie said. “If he’s not dead, what

happened?”

Toby hesitated for a moment. He turned and started to

pace the room. “Well, I’m not sure how to tell you this.” It
wasn’t fair that he had to be the one to do this, especially
on Christmas Eve.

“Tell me what?”
Toby stopped pacing and turned to face him. He

shrugged and said, “No one knows about this yet and I’m
not sure they ever will. People at the office only know a
made up excuse. The only reason I know about it is
because my best friend, Rosemary, who lives next door, is
a doctor at St. Vincent’s.”

“He had a heart attack?” Richie asked. “I knew it was

too good to be true. Oh, poor Brad. He was working so

hard. I was worried something like this would happen.”

“It’s not that,” Toby said. Richie had not idea how hard

Brad had been working…on everyone. With the double life
he’d been leading it was a wonder he didn’t have a heart
attack. “Sometime last weekend Brad’s wife caught him in
a compromising situation. Evidently, she’d been following
him around for some time. And last weekend she followed
him to a park downtown and caught him in the bushes with
a couple of guys. She beat the hell out of him pretty badly
with a baseball bat.” Toby didn’t go into details. He figured
it was kinder not to mention that Brad’s wife had caught him
getting gang banged by four guys, of mixed races, next to a
cypress. Brad had been on his back, with his legs in the air,
begging to get fucked, when the wife stormed in with a
baseball bat and beat the hell out of him. The guys took one
look at her and ran away. Someone called the police, and
Brad’s father-in-law had to fix things so the incident would
stay out of the newspapers. No one at the office knew
anything about it. The bosses said Brad was out that week
with a severe head cold. The only reason Toby knew all this
was because Rosemary had been the emergency room
doctor when they’d brought Brad in on a stretcher. And his
dazed wife had been rambling about what had happened to
Rosemary in the hospital until her father arrived and took
her away. There were no charges pressed and none of this
would ever reach the newspapers. But from what Rosemary
told Toby, Brad would be out of commission for quite a
while.

Richie plopped down on the sofa and processed what

he’d just been told. A minute later, he looked up at Toby
and said, “I don’t understand. He told me I was the only one.
He said he was going to divorce his wife so he could be
with

me

. There must be some kind of a mistake.”

Toby sat down in the arm chair and sighed. He wished

he’d been able to take one swing with the baseball bat at
Brad, too. “I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t been the one to tell you.”

“Are you absolutely sure there hasn’t been some kind of

a mistake,” Richie said, glancing at the gift on the table.
“We were going to exchange gifts tonight. And why was he
out cruising the park? Maybe he was raped. I hear that can
happen.”

Toby sent him a long, serious glance. “He wasn’t raped.

Do I have to spell it out for you? He was screwing around in
the bushes in a public park.” He hated to be the one to tell
Richie all this, but now he felt it was his duty to finally be
honest. He only wished he’d done this sooner. “And I’m
sure this wasn’t the first time either.”

Richie sent him a glare. “What do you mean?”
“Brad has been seeing more than one guy for as long

as I’ve known him,” Toby said. “He’s been using my
apartment four and five nights a week to fool around. He’s
probably slept with half the guys in New York by now.”

“You’re lying,” Richie said. “I would have known. I know

Brad’s no saint and he flirts all the time, but this is
ridiculous.”

Toby frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be the one to

tell you.”

Richie hesitated, then said, “Wait a minute. You knew

he was fooling around all this time and you never said
anything to me?”

Toby shrugged. “How could I?

He’s my boss

. I didn’t

want to lose my job. And just so you know, this hasn’t been
easy for me either. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to put a
stop to all of this. Do you think I liked Brad using my
apartment this way? I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t afford
to quit my job. And I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you.”

Richie stood up and started to pace the room. “I can’t

believe what I’m hearing. He’s been lying to me all this time
and you never said anything. And here I am thinking he’s
going to leave his wife. How fucking stupid could I be?” He
smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm and kicked
a chair.

Toby stood up and walked over to him. He grabbed him

by the arms and said, “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you after
the New Year. I swear I was. I wasn’t going to let it continue.
I got a new job and I’m leaving the agency next month. I hate
fucking advertising and all that goes with it. I was going to
put a stop to the arrangement I had with Brad and I was
going to tell him to go fuck himself. I swear I was. I wouldn’t
lie about that to you.”

Richie shrugged his shoulders and exhaled. He wasn’t

crying; he didn’t seem angry. “I guess I can’t blame you. I
should have known better. It’s not like I haven’t been through
this before. I just thought this time was different. I thought I
had a real chance with Brad. I guess I was just fooling
myself into believing there might be a happy ending for
people like us. I tend to be delusional that way and I’m a

sucker for a guy with a great line of bullshit.”

Toby didn’t know what to say. He knew Richie wouldn’t

go to the hospital to see Brad; this sort of thing wasn’t
done; it would have been too risky. Toby wasn’t sure there
was a happy ending for people like them either. He almost
wished Richie would get mad and start throwing things
around. He would have known how to handle that. “Why
don’t you go into the bedroom and rest for a while.”

“No,” Richie said. “I’m fine. I’ll leave. I’ve already caused

you enough problems. You don’t need me around anymore.
You must think I’m the biggest jerk in New York.”

He couldn’t let him leave this way. “I don’t think you’re a

jerk at all. I never did. Don’t leave now. Go into the bedroom
and rest. I’ll order Chinese and have it delivered. It’s going
to be okay.”

“No it’s not,” Richie said. “It’s never going to be okay.

It’s always going to be the way it is right now. Guys like us
aren’t allowed to have the same things everyone else gets.
We’re screwed from the start. The really ironic part is that
even when we settle for guys like Brad, we wind up alone in
the end anyway.” Then he loped into the bedroom, with his
head down, and fell across the bed.

While Richie was in the bedroom, Toby went next door

and explained what was happening to Rosemary. When
she heard about what had happened, and Toby explained
why Richie was so devastated, she understood why Toby
wouldn’t be able to join her for dinner. Then she hugged him
and told him to be honest this time.

Toby ordered Chinese take out that night but Richie

barely ate a thing. He sat on the sofa in his boxer shorts
and a white T-shirt and gazed at the TV with a blank
expression. He didn’t speak unless Toby asked him a
direct question and he didn’t smile once. Toby tried to
cheer him up with Christmas music on the radio but that
didn’t work. The rest of the night he remained on the sofa,
on his back staring up at the ceiling.

When it was time for bed, Toby told Richie to use the

bedroom and said he’d sleep on the sofa. But Richie
refused to get up. He said, “You’ve done enough for me. I’m
fine here.” So Toby took a cover and a pillow off the bed
and brought it into the living room. He had a feeling Richie
didn’t even notice that he lifted Richie’s head, shoved the
pillow beneath it, and covered him completely so he
wouldn’t be cold.

On Christmas morning, it started to snow again. Toby

heard Richie make a phone call in the living room. He
spoke softly but Toby heard every word he said. He told
someone he’d be away for a few days and not to expect
him home for Christmas. Toby had a feeling Richie had
called his family. He’d once mentioned he had a large
family in The Bronx.

Though Richie hadn’t eaten much for dinner, he did

have a few slices of toast for breakfast. Toby had to force
him to eat; it looked as if he had trouble swallowing. After
breakfast Toby said, “Why don’t you come to New Jersey
with me today. I’m going to my family. They won’t mind one
more person. I don’t want you to spend the day alone.” He’d
never brought anyone home to meet his family before. He’d

tell them it was a buddy from work who had nowhere to go.

Richie forced a smile. “Thanks. But I’d rather be alone.

And I really don’t want to be a bother. You have a nice life
and you don’t need trash like me ruining things. I’ll be gone
before you get back tonight.”

Toby sent him a look. “You’re not trash.”
“That’s how I feel.”
When Toby thought about him spending Christmas Day

all alone in this state of mind, he waited until Richie went
into the bathroom to shower and he phoned his mother in
New Jersey. Toby told her he had a bad cold and didn’t
want anyone else to catch it. Then he said he’d see her on
New Year’s Day. She told him to come out anyway, so he
faked a bad cough and made his voice sound nasal. When
she heard this, she ordered him back to bed and said
she’d call later that day to see how he was feeling.

When Richie came out of the bathroom, he smelled

soapy and damp. He was still wearing boxer shorts and a
T-shirt. Toby smiled and said, “We’re going out to dinner
tonight. If you don’t have anything to wear, I’m sure I have
something in the closet.” He wanted to cheer him up; he
couldn’t stand seeing him this depressed.

Richie looked at him and frowned. “I thought you were

going to New Jersey.”

“I decided to cancel that,” Toby said. “I’d rather stay

here instead.” He glanced at the window. “Besides, it’s
snowing.”

“Please don’t make me feel even worse,” Richie said. “I

just got dumped on Christmas Eve by a creep, and now I

have to feel guilty about ruining your Christmas. I knew I
should have left. I just keep ruining everything.”

Toby’s face felt warm and his heart started to race. He

stood up and glared at Richie. He couldn’t control his real
feelings any longer. “

Give me some credit

. And stop

treating me like I’m just a dumb sucker who allows cheating
trash like Brad Lindsay use my apartment to screw around
behind his wife’s back. Did you ever stop to think that
maybe I

want

to spend the day with you? Did you ever stop

to think that maybe I want to take you out to dinner tonight?
You know, I don’t do this with everyone. And frankly, if you
had been one of the other losers Brad has been screwing
around with you would have been out of here last night and
I’d be getting dressed to leave for New Jersey.” He glanced
at him, shrugged, and spread his arms. “But I’m still here.”

Richie stood in the bedroom doorway gaping at him.
Toby took a deep breath and forced his voice to go

down. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot. But so
have I.” He turned and looked into Richie’s eyes. “It hasn’t
been easy for me either. When I agreed to the arrangement
with Brad, I didn’t think it would be a big thing. I thought
once or twice a month, not almost every night of the week.
And it killed me when I saw what he was doing to you.” He
gestured to the Christmas tree in the window. “When I
came home that night and I saw that Christmas tree in the
window, I think I knew I was in love with you. And I also knew
there was nothing I could do about it because you were so
involved with Brad. I figured it wasn’t meant to be. I’m used

to not expecting too much and I’m usually never
disappointed.”

Richie’s eyes opened wider. He walked up to Toby and

said, “I had no idea you felt this way.”

Toby felt a sting in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front

of Richie so he turned his head and said, “I know you didn’t.
I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at everything right now
because it’s all so unfair. All this sneaking around and
trying to figure these

things

out when they rarely make

sense. But I could never get mad at you.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” His tone had

softened.

Toby shrugged. “I figured it wouldn’t matter. You’re this

great looking guy with those huge muscles and everyone’s
always stopping to stare at you when you walk down the
street. And here I am, this average, boring guy in a suit, with
average looks, who makes am average living writing
slogans for canned prunes.” He turned around and faced
Richie. He spread his arms out and said, “I can’t compete
with Brad Lindsay’s personality or his money.”

“I wish you’d said something,” Richie said.
“I wish I had, too,” said Toby. “But it’s not easy,

especially when you’re not sure what you’re doing. Up until
recently I didn’t even know men could feel this way about
each other. I don’t know how to act or how to react in
situations like this. I’m not even sure I should be telling you
all this right now. All I know is that when you love someone
the last thing you want to do is hurt them. I saw how happy
you were with Brad. I couldn’t be the one to hurt you that

way.” Toby wiped his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, he
couldn’t keep the tears from spilling out.

Richie smiled at him. “Maybe we’re both just a couple of

assholes.”

Toby sniffed back and laughed. “No. I just think we’re

not sure about what to do, is all. There are no handbooks or
rules for men like us. But I’m learning.”

“Come here,” Richie said. He grabbed Toby and held

him in his arms very gently. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been hiding
a few feelings from you for a long time.”

Toby lifted his arms and wrapped them around Richie’s

shoulders. It felt so good to be in his arms he could have
remained there for the rest of the day. “You have feelings
for me?”

He rubbed Toby’s back. “You sound surprised.”
Toby shrugged. “I am surprised.”
Richie held him tighter. “Why do you think I’ve been

leaving flowers in here and on your desk at work? Think
about it. And I left that Christmas tree because I wanted to
do something really nice for you, something you’d always
remember. You’re one of the sweetest, softest guys I’ve
ever met. The angel on top of that tree has eyes that remind
me of yours. But I thought you were too good for me and I
didn’t have a shot in hell at being with a guy like you. I don’t
have the best track record.”

Toby inhaled his scent and said, “You’re just saying that

to make me feel better now that I’ve told you I love you. You
don’t have to be kind.”

Richie’s hand went down and he grabbed Toby’s ass.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.” He kissed the top of Toby’s
head. “You have no idea how much I wanted you that night
we slept together during that snowstorm. But you didn’t
seem interested in me at all. It was total, brutal rejection.
You turned sideways, ignored me completely, and
pretended I wasn’t even there. I thought you were
unapproachable and you wanted nothing to do with a big
dumb maintenance guy from The Bronx.”

“I only turned away like that because I wanted you so

much.” Toby said. His tone grew softer. “I was terrified of
what might happen, especially if you rejected me and
laughed in my face.” He felt something hard pressing into
his groin.

Richie laughed, and then he slid his hand down the

back of Toby’s pants. “You had good reason to be terrified
that night.”

Toby closed his eyes and arched his back. “Why is

that?”

He laughed. “I would have made love to you like no one

ever has before. You would have been limping the next
day.”

“Are you serious?” Toby asked. Everything that was

happening seemed too good to be true. When you get
used to expecting the worst, it’s hard to grasp the good
things.

Richie squeezed his ass. “I guess I’ve been in love with

you since that first night I saw you in the reception area. I
didn’t think I mattered to you. Guys like you never seem to
take guys like me very seriously. I’m not smart like you.”

Toby lowered his right arm and slid his hand down

Richie’s boxer shorts. He grabbed his dick and said, “You
feel good.” He stroked him gently and kissed his chest.

Richie pulled his hand out of Toby’s pants. He grabbed

Toby’s face with both hands and kissed him so hard their
teeth met. Toby closed his eyes and the room started to
spin. The lights from the Christmas tree magnified one
million times and flashed before Toby’s eyes. He’d never
felt anything as wonderful as this and he didn’t want to stop.

But Richie stopped kissing and said, “Let’s go into the

bedroom. We can talk later.”

Toby nodded yes without saying a word. He felt a surge

of emotion pass through his body when he took a step back
and Richie reached for his hand. Though touching Richie’s
hand was a simple ordinary gesture, it was almost more
than Toby could stand. There were dry calluses on Richie’s
palms and his thick fingers made Toby feel warm and safe.
He’d felt safe and warm before, but never quite this way.
For the first time, Toby knew this would be more than crude
sex with another man. There was a strong connection
between them that went far deeper than friendship. As
Richie led him to the bedroom, Toby glanced over his
shoulder and smiled at the little Christmas tree in front of
the window. It was as beautiful as what he was feeling in his
heart now with Richie. He remembered the first time he’d
seen the tree in the window. He never thought he’d own it.
When Richie squeezed his hand tighter and pulled him
toward the bed, he sighed and decided that maybe there
was hope for people like them after all.

The End

About the Authors

Andrew Grey

grew up in western Michigan with a father

who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read
them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and
traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree
from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in
information systems for a large corporation. Andrew’s
hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving
his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when
writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting
family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive
and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful,
historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

Ryan Field

is a fiction writer who has worked in publishing

for almost twenty years. He has worked as an assistant
editor and editor for magazines and non-fiction publishers.
And aside from writing over eighty-four distinct published
works, his short stories have been published in anthologies
and collections by Alyson Books and Cleis Press. His short
story, “Down the Basement,” is part of a collection of short
stories in the Lambda Award winning book, BEST GAY
EROTICA 2009. He blogs at www.ryan-field.blogspot.com.
You can follow him on twitter @ryanfield. And on facebook,
goodreads, or Google+, under Ryan Field.

Copyright Information

A Ravenous Romance© Original Publication

www.ravenousromance.com

Copyright 2011 by Ravenous Romance

Ravenous Romance
100 Cummings Center
Suite 123A
Beverly, MA

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
in whole or in part without written permission from the
publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief
excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-471-6

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental..