Fourteen #2
There was in me the desire to know things about people.
All people—everyone I met. I was compelled to dissect them and find out what made them tick.
So slowly, gently, as we walked, I asked questions.
Zach, was from Wisconsin. He had moved to the city three years ago to go to college after he graduated from high school.
He had, as of yet, not started. He didn’t really like the idea of studying.
What he did like, however, was to party with his friends.
Because keeping a job with an addiction to crystal meth had proven problematic, he had ended up living with his friend Billy.
William “Billy” Donavan and Zachary “Zach” Baer had met at a club and been inseparable at once.
They were both young and hot, so it made sense.
Zach was built like a swimmer, with long, lean muscles, short, curly brown hair, and dark blue eyes.
Billy was a little taller, built thicker, with broad shoulders and heavier muscles.
His hair was more of a golden brown, and his eyes were greenish brown, lighter than hazel but close.
They fit together, and so when his other roommates had finally evicted Zach from his apartment, Billy had taken him in.
The problem was that Billy didn’t pay his rent with money; he paid it by working for Rego James.
Mr. James owned several clubs in the city, and he also apparently had a lucrative escort service on the side.
Rego had no problem with Zach sleeping on Billy’s couch, which was basically his couch since he paid the rent there, as long as Zach turned the same tricks that Billy did.
They basically did whatever they wanted whenever they wanted, but if Rego needed them to go somewhere or do somebody, they had better jump.
It took a lot of money to keep the drugs coming, and that was why they had stolen the car.
What Rego had given them from the last party was gone, and there was no money for food or anything else.
The hundred I was offering looked really good.
“So, William, how did you meet this Rego guy?”
He had more of a wary look than Zach did, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if he was going to tell me, but he suddenly smiled. “Call me Billy.”
“Sure.”
Billy had been in the city since he was sixteen, having left home in his junior year of high school. Fresh off the bus from Knoxville, Tennessee, Rego had found him sleeping in the doorway of one of his clubs and had offered to take him for breakfast.
“He took me to his place, and that was it—I didn’t even know I was gay until then.”
I squinted at him, holding back the real questions I wanted to ask. “How old are you?”
“I’m nineteen, Zach’s twenty—he just turned two weeks ago.”
“You guys ever wanna go home?”
“No, man.” He shook his head. “It’s boring as shit at home.” Zach’s eyes flicked to mine. “Nobody at home gives a crap.”
“Won’t you get some money tonight?” I cleared my throat, walking into the club behind Zach.
“No. We actually owe Rego money. We both had him front us cash.”
I nodded, realizing the kind of club I was in.
Bar in front with the dance floor, rooms in back, and farther back, bigger rooms down long, dark hallways.
It was a half step up from a bathhouse. When I had first moved to the city, I had been a regular in the meat market type places, but because I worked every day for Dane Harcourt, I hadn’t been able to completely lose myself in the scene.
For the millionth time, I realized how lucky I was to have finished high school and college and have had a good job the whole time.
I could have easily been Zachary or William if things had gone different.
I followed silently behind them through the dark club, to a table where a guy sat with several other men on couches, close to the back rooms.
“Finally,” the guy said, standing up. “Gimme your coat, he’s waiting.”
Billy shed his coat to reveal tight black jeans and a black spandex T-shirt that clung like a second skin to his chest and abdomen. Not that there was a lot of definition there, but he still had a nice body. He turned quickly to look at me.
“Hang tight, Jory.”
I nodded.
“Dance or something,” he said before he bolted toward the door and went through it.
“Zach!”
We both turned to look at the man who had yelled for him.
“Get your ass in the back too.”
Zach squeezed my arm before he too darted away. When I turned to walk back to the bar, the man stepped in front of me.
“Who’re you?”
I looked up into the face of a very handsome man. Immediately I was drawn to the thick brows, the big olive-green eyes, and his dark, full lips. The suit he was wearing fit like a glove, and the dress shirt was open at the collar.
“Asked you a question.”
“Who’re you?” I asked instead of answering.
“I’m Rego. Now you.”
“Oh, you’re him.”
“Yeah, I’m him.”
“I’m Jory.”
He nodded, looked me up and down. “You a friend of Zach and Billy?”
“No.”
“Rego.”
He looked away from me to the man sitting on the couch beside him.
“Is he new?”
He shook his head and returned his eyes to mine. “You don’t need a job, right?”
“No. I’m a graphic designer.”
He nodded. “Sit with me.”
“Sure.”
I took off my parka and my beanie, leaving my scarf on, and sat down beside him, a few feet from everyone else.
“So you do what, exactly?”
“As I said, graphic design.”
“Rego.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“I thought you said you didn’t have a blond.”
“I don’t.”
The other man pointed at me. “You can’t get any blonder than that.”
Rego chuckled as the music got louder. “He’s not mine.”
There was a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at an older man standing beside me and said, “Hi.”
“Hi? I love that.” He smiled down at me before he looked at Rego. “He’s perfect.”
“No.” Rego shook his head. “He’s just here visiting me.”
The guy nodded, then walked slowly away.
“Hey.”
I returned my eyes to him.
“I wanna talk to you.”
“Sure.”
He got up and took hold of the front of my sweater and led me to the dance floor.
I started dancing, and instead of moving with me, he just watched me.
“Come on.” I smiled lazily. “I can look at you and know you can dance.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded, then grabbed me fast. He was bigger than me, stronger, and when I struggled, he got his arm around my neck and my arm twisted up behind me.
He dragged me off the floor through a side door that I hadn’t even seen when I came in.
I was shoved hard and had just enough time to get my hands up so I didn’t go face-first into the door, and then the wall on the other side.
My chest was slammed into it hard as he flattened himself against my back.
“I smell hustler on you, Jory. I think you’d like gettin’ fucked regular.”
I tried to move, but he had me again, my shoulder feeling like it was going to pop out of the socket, his forearm against the back of my neck.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time. You are so fuckin’ clean.”
“I promise I’m not a hustler.”
“But you could be.”
“No,” I sighed. “I don’t have the heart for it.”
“Your heart has nothing to—”
“Lemme go,” I pleaded.
“I don’t wanna hurt you, so don’t fight me, all right?”
I nodded, and he let my arm go but didn’t move back, still holding my cheek to the wall.
“Blond hair and brown eyes, Jory, that’s real nice.”
“Can you let go?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, working my belt and the button of my jeans open. “You ever bareback, Jory? I think you’ll like it.”
“Never happen,” I promised him.
“No?”
“No.”
“Okay, baby, don’t worry. I’ve got a condom right here.”
And I should have panicked; I really should have…but I didn’t. Being raped was not something I had ever even considered. I figured I might be beat up, maybe even shot at, but never raped. It didn’t figure into my plans.
“You don’t wanna do that.”
“Why not?”
I let my head fall back on his shoulder and just breathed. “Because I’m better seduced and taken to bed.”
“You—”
“The guys you got… Touch my skin, touch my hair, you said I was beautiful and clean—why you wanna make me like all the other guys?”
I felt his breath on the side of my neck before his lips.
“I’m not here to give you trouble.”
“Oh, I know… You’re here for me to—”
“Kiss me first.”
“I don’t kiss anybody.”
“Why not? You’re gorgeous. I bet you could make me come just with a kiss.”
His moan was pained as he pressed his groin against my ass and his hands went to my hips. “Jesus, the mouth on you… Turn around.”
I did as he asked.
“Look at me.”
I lifted my head to meet his gaze and smiled. “You have beautiful eyes. I’ve never seen that color of green before.”
He stared down at me and then slowly eased me into his arms. He hugged me tight, his hands smoothing up and down my back, his face buried in my hair.
I let him put his hands up under the T-shirt I had on beneath my shirt, run over my bare skin, and then down over my ass.
He leaned forward to kiss me, but I eased back.
“You told me to kiss you.”
“I just needed you to move,” I said gently.
“You’re not going to let me take you home.”
“No.”
“Because you belong to someone already.”
I nodded.
“But you would if there was no other guy, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course.”
He was stunned; there was no missing it. “You would, wouldn’t you. No bullshit. You’d come on your own. I wouldn’t have to force you.”
“No.”
He was having trouble digesting my honesty. “Follow me.”
“Sure,” I agreed, as he slowly let me go, and straightened his suit. For my part, I buttoned my jeans, buckled my belt, and then smiled at him. “Lead on.”
He had me go first back through the door to the dance floor. Halfway there, he stopped me with a hand on the back of my shirt.