Chapter 7
7
“ T he integrity of the game is everything.” —Peter Ueberroth
My office phone buzzed at nine the next morning. I’d been at my desk for a couple of hours already and was working on my third cup of coffee.
“Mr. Townsend? There’s a Mr. Farinelli on line one.”
I kept typing as I tried to remember which project a Mr. Farinelli was associated with. My secretary didn’t wait for my consent. She sent the call through, so another round of obnoxious buzzing began. I picked up the phone and pushed away from my keyboard in irritation.
“Townsend.”
“Townsend? Seriously? That’s how you answer your phone? Not very friendly if you ask me.”
“Hi. My secretary said your last name and I kinda spaced.” I stood and walked away from my computer. Jack was all kinds of distracting. What was he doing calling my office phone anyway? I asked him.
“Well, I wasn’t sure how formal I was supposed to be about this whole… you know… thing, so I figured you wouldn’t pick up your cell at work, you never do, and I wanted to talk to you, okay?” Jack sounded flustered. I smiled into the phone, perversely enjoying the very thought. “And yeah, Jack Farinelli, at your service.” He chuckled a little evilly, making us both laugh.
“You’re probably right about me not picking up my cell. I tend to get focused and… what can I do for you?” My heart skipped a beat. I loved the sound of Jack’s deep voice. I wanted him to do the talking.
“I told you. I’m doing what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“Are you serious? Do I have to spell it out? Are you enjoying making me squirm? Fine.” Jack paused. I heard his deep intake of breath and could almost picture him working on a bike, maybe wearing a snug T-shirt that emphasized his bulging, tattooed arms. I bit my lip and tried to stay in the moment. Jack… Farinelli was asking me out.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Not much. You?” My smile was so wide, my cheeks hurt. It was a good thing Jack couldn’t see me, I mused.
“Want to grab some dinner?”
Not the smoothest invitation, but coming from Jack it was as though it were engraved and presented on a silver tray. I struggled to keep the ridiculous delight I felt that he was making this effort on my behalf. But it was hard.
“I’d love to. What did you have in mind?”
We agreed to meet at Market. It was a cool, trendy spot located between my downtown office and Dupont. It had a great outdoor seating area, and on a warm summer evening, it could be the perfect “date” spot.
Jack greeted me outside the restaurant at seven thirty that evening. I noticed him give me a full head-to-toe appreciative once-over. I was a little puzzled, since I was dressed in my typical office suit. I’d abandoned my tie before I left, so if anything I probably looked a little disheveled after spending a full twelve hours at my desk. Jack apparently didn’t mind. He licked his upper lip and ran his hand down my arm, briefly squeezing my fingers before opening the door for me. I don’t know why those small gestures got to me, but they did. Jack was more touchy-feely than me certainly, but these were special caresses reserved only for me. I knew it. I wondered if he was equally aware.
A hostess showed us to an outside table for two adjacent to a large, rowdy group of after-work partiers. I touched the back of the chair and shook my head slightly. Jack caught my meaning and pointed to a table at the opposite end. I couldn’t hear their exchange over the din but I followed Jack and the hostess as they headed for the quieter side of the patio. She left us with menus and the promise someone would be by shortly to take our drink order.
“Do you mind being outside? We could go….”
I leaned across the table and set my hand on his. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
Jack smiled and picked up the menu. I took a moment to study my handsome dinner companion while he perused the wine selection. He was dressed in a simple but beautifully tailored light blue dress shirt that made his eyes pop. This was the first time since Peter and Jay’s wedding I’d seen him in something other than T-shirts, jeans, or leather pants and a leather jacket. His wavy, dark hair curled enticingly at his collar like he’d just come from the shower, and I thought I smelled the slightest hint of cologne. I kept my thoughts and observations to myself, figuring he wouldn’t care for any commentary about him sprucing up for my sake. But I was touched. He was taking this “dating thing” seriously.
When our drink order was placed, Jack gave me his full attention, leaning his forearms on the table and fixing me with an expectant stare.
“So….”
“Yes?”
“What are we supposed to talk about?”
I had to laugh. “Gee, Jack, I don’t know. I’ll throw out a couple of suggestions, and you tell me if any sound interesting. Work?” Jack shook his head in the negative. “That leaves the following: friends, family, movies, current events, or sports. We could go into religion or politics, but I’d prefer a relaxing dinner myself. Anything sound interesting?”
“So we’re treating this a little like a Jeopardy category, eh?” His devilish grin lit his eyes. I had a sudden urge to touch the crinkled marks of time at their corners. God, I hope I looked half as good as Jack at his age. The lines were subtle and served only to enhance his strong features. I bit my cheek and raised my glass in agreement.
“Okay. Since this is technically your ‘date’….”
“No. It’s ours,” I insisted.
“No, the next one is my choice of venue or whatever. You said dinner or a movie, right?”
I smiled and took a sip of wine. “Sure, Jack. I don’t think I’ll be up for a movie tonight, though. Does that mean I get a part two?”
Jack sighed heavily, picked up his wineglass, and made a big show of draining half the contents before setting the goblet down and giving me a theatrical eye roll. “Fine. You can have a part two.”
I burst out laughing. I had caught on over the past couple of months that teasing and light bantering were communication tools Jack used liberally. When things were tense or uncomfortable or in danger of becoming so, he would say or do something ranging from silly to provocative to ease the mood.
Whatever he said might get me riled about something completely off topic, but it worked to diffuse my anxiety. I didn’t know if it was just a skill he had honed over the years or if he understood me. Jack was one of the most intimidating-looking people I’d ever met, but his wicked sense of humor and his innate kindness kept me from backing away even when I starting thinking I was in over my head.
“Gee thanks. So I choose the category, eh? Um, I never ever would go there usually, but I’m curious about your family. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Jack groaned. “God, let’s keep this short, please. Basic need to know… I have one sister, Kelly, who you know. She’s married to Kevin, and they have Petra and Blake. Our mother lives in Florida. Whew. That’s over. Wanna talk about yours, or should we discuss what movie we’re going to next time?”
“Not so fast.” I held up a hand and waited until his gaze met mine. “What about your dad or stepdad? Didn’t you tell me you?—”
“He left.” Jack picked up his wineglass, but it was a nervous gesture, more about having something to do with his hands than because he wanted a drink. If smoking weren’t prohibited in the restaurant I had a strong feeling he would have lit a cigarette right then.
“Oh. Was it a long time ago?” Jack remained silent. “Sorry… we don’t have to talk ab?—”
Jack set the glass back down and leaned forward. “Yeah. It was a long time ago. I don’t care if we talk about it, but the story is boring. No doubt the same shit millions of kids across our fair land experience all the time.” He turned his head toward the street as if distracted. “I’m five years older than Kel. We’re technically half siblings. Same mom, different dads. Our dear ole mom is on husband number… damn, I think it’s number five now. She’s a mess. Always was, really. I never knew my biological father, but he was hubby number one. Story is that he left us when I was two.” He shrugged as if that type of thing was expected. “Number two was Kelly’s father. I barely remember him. He was killed in a car wreck when she was a baby. I think she was one. I was six, and fuck… that was rough. All the crying and…. Anyway, Hal was number three. He’s the only one I knew well and he was….” Jack paused and swallowed hard. “He was a great dad.”
“Did they divorce?” I prodded gently, hoping he’d continue.
“Eventually. But Kel and I lucked out. Or maybe only I did. They got married when I was ten and divorced just about when I turned eighteen. He was a good man. He took his responsibility as father to two rug rats who weren’t even his very seriously. He cared about schoolwork and discipline. Shit my mom couldn’t be bothered with. And best of all, in the mind of a ten-year-old kid, he cared about baseball.”
Jack smiled weakly. I returned the gesture and again waited silently for him to gather his thoughts.
“I’d always loved baseball but I’d never played anything organized. My mom didn’t really pay attention and, well, Hal bought me my first bat and glove. He signed me up for Little League and coached three of the teams I was on. I was this skinny little kid, constantly talking back and getting into trouble. It’s crazy he even bothered, you know? But he did. He was patient, sometimes hard on me, but he was consistent.”
“What happened?”
“My mom was a fucking drunk. She let Hal raise us, while she drank his money away. The shit hit the fan when I was eighteen. She had an affair and was less than discreet about it. Everything fell apart at the seams. He left. I was devastated. Probably more so than anyone else.” Jack gave a humorless half-chuckle as if laughing at his younger self’s na?veté. “I had just graduated from high school and had formulated this grand plan in my head about taking a cross-country motorcycle journey to celebrate and then maybe come back and enroll in some college courses. It didn’t quite work out like I’d hoped. We needed the money I made to help support us as she began this crazy downhill spiral. I was angry and she was verbally abusive. It was horrible. One night we got into it. God only knows what it was about but I’d had it. I thought, fuck it. She takes and takes and nothing is ever enough. In the heat of the moment, I came out. She didn’t believe me at first, but when I didn’t back down, she realized I might be telling the truth. So she kicked me out. She wanted nothing to do with me. She said it was my fault Hal left. Who’d want to be around my kind? Blah, blah, blah. Except she changed her tune when it became apparent he wasn’t coming back and she needed any measly bit of money I could send home. Fucking bitch.”
“So you never saw him again?”
“No, I did. He actually would send me a little money for groceries, things for Kelly. We kept in touch or tried to for a while, but eventually he met someone else and started a new life. Grown stepkids of no relation are hard to neatly weave into a new start. I didn’t blame him, but… whatever.” He shrugged like it was inconsequential. Unimportant. Obviously the opposite was true.
“What about Kelly? You didn’t hang around ’til she was eighteen, right?”
“No. My aunt swooped in to take over and helped get my mom sorted out. I moved out, took college courses nearby, and worked at a dive bar serving drinks to gay leather daddy motorcycle-types. I sent my ‘dirty gay money’ home to help out with expenses until she got back on her feet and met the next sucker. Thankfully, husband number four was financially comfortable, which allowed me to cut the apron strings so to speak and get the fuck out of the state. I kept moving north until I landed as far as Baltimore. Then I backtracked to DC when Kelly and Peter came to join me. The rest is history.”
We let the conversations of our fellow diners fill in the silence at our table. After a moment or two, Jack made a quirky face and crossed his eyes. I chuckled and allowed the present to take over and chase away ancient ghosts. Talking about old family crap didn’t have to bring us down. We didn’t have to let it.
“You and Kelly seem close. You’re lucky.”
“Yeah. I know. She’s incredible. She may be tiny, but she’s tough. She had to be, dealing with our mother. Kel always had this gift for seeing through bullshit. If you aren’t real, you don’t stand a chance with her. She’s… special.”
When our waiter came to deliver our dinners, I watched Jack, surreptitiously wondering if he realized how much he’d shared. We hadn’t been overly talkative about our pasts in general, but I’d certainly been more forthcoming than him. Maybe that was because he asked. I wanted to know more about him, but I always assumed hard topics were off the table. Maybe that wasn’t the case.
“What? You’re looking at me funny,” Jack accused, picking up his fork to spear some lettuce.
“It’s nothing. I was thinking about family.”
“A blessing and a curse.”
I gave a half-chuckle at the apt expression. “For me it was more curse than blessing, but hey, you can choose your friends, but not your family, right?”
“True. What about your brother? Are you close? Were you ever?”
“No. Cary’s three years older than me. He was the golden child to my black sheep. He was great at everything he tried, gregarious, funny… and straight.”
Jack cocked his head and gave me a long stare. “You know, other than the straight part, it seems to me you’re describing yourself.”
I blushed at the compliment and though I hate it when people don’t accept them gracefully, I felt the need to tell him why he was wrong.
“I don’t think so.”
“Someone’s fishin’,” he singsonged, his blue eyes twinkling playfully.
“No, I’m not. But I’m not Cary.” I stopped, thinking that statement alone should explain everything.
“Good. I like you. You’re intelligent, friendly, funny, you’re fucking hot, and you like baseball. Enough said.”
Fucking hot? I couldn’t even begin to process that particular compliment, so I let it be.
“Baseball, eh? It all comes back to baseball.”
“Of course. Let me ask you something…. what does your brother have that you don’t that you think somehow makes you seem lacking?”
“Um….”
“I’m not talking about who you fuck, either. I’m talking about your traits as human beings.” He sat back in his chair, waiting.
“Cary was always more… willing to please than I was. There was enough of an age difference between us when we were younger that we didn’t compete directly. You know, as far as things like who was a better athlete or a better student were concerned. But….”
“Who was the better athlete and student?”
“Me actually.” I paused and shook my head ruefully. Jack gave me one of his “stop stalling, keep your story rolling” hand gestures.
“But Cary just… he’s more amiable, more….”
“You’re amiable.”
“Yeah, okay, but he’s….”
“A kiss ass?” Jack supplied.
I laughed outright. There was something very satisfying about having Jack in my corner.
“Maybe a little bit. He went into the family business and?—”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but once again it sounds like you’re both smart men whose only glaring difference is your sexuality.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe our sexuality is our biggest difference. Personality wise, I’m friendly, sure, but I’m not willing to back down to please anyone. Even my father, so maybe you’re correct on that score too. Whatever. I think everyone assumed I’d come back with my tail between my legs begging for… forgiveness? I don’t know. My parents, my father especially is all about mind over matter. I think he believed I could beat my compulsion to be homosexual if I really tried. He didn’t understand it wasn’t a choice I made, that I was in fact born this way, like having boring brown hair and brown eyes. He saw it as stubbornness on my part. How do you even talk to someone like that? Communication is impossible.”
“You don’t. You’re never going to change how some people think, nor is it your job to do so. You can only do your best to be the most excellent human you can be and live a good life. What others think is just that, their opinion.”
“I know. I do. It took me time and distance to fully accept it, but in my heart, I always knew I was okay. It’s just… it’s hard being… orphaned with family sometimes. That’s all.” I felt a wave of sadness wash over me.
Jack didn’t say anything at first. I looked away, wishing we had our usual distraction of a game on the television. No wonder Jack didn’t like “dating.” Face-to-face conversations over dinner made evasion and retreat practically impossible without a degree of awkwardness.
“I know how you feel. I have Kelly and we’re close, but she’s five years younger than me, so I spent a great deal of my formative years going it alone. I think I’m guilty of building my stepdad up to being bigger and better than reality because there was nothing like him before then. And just like him, everyone of significance after didn’t stick around. So yeah, I’m grateful for the family I have in Kel, because otherwise I am and always have been alone. Not orphaned per se, but alone.”
“So we’re together in being alone?” I smiled weakly, hoping to shift to a more uplifting line of conversation. Jack grinned and picked up his glass. He clinked it noisily with mine.
“It seems to me… if we’re together, we aren’t alone.” He pitched his voice low but spoke in a loud whisper, as though he were telling an exaggerated secret. It was classic Jack making a joke out of something that had the potential for turning uncomfortably serious.
The sounds of other diners and random passersby faded to a hum in the background. His words sounded symbolic and meaningful in spite of his playful tone, but I didn’t want to misinterpret. Regardless of intent, I recognized a current of depth and a connection between us.
By unspoken agreement we shifted away from talk of family to easier “categories.” In fact, we jokingly tackled every Jeopardy topic we’d thought up earlier, ending with a lively discussion about movies. We both loved action-adventure flicks, but Jack couldn’t understand my passion for classic films.
“Like black and white? The old movies where they didn’t even talk? Damn, might as well see a foreign film,” he snidely remarked.
“Yes, black and white. Silent films aren’t my favorite, though there are some great ones. I like classic old Hollywood movies with Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Katharine Hepburn, and the dreamiest of all, Cary Grant.”
“Wow. You really are gay. I think I see rainbow sparks and fairy dust in your aura. I bet you were jealous your brother got his name,” he teased.
I grinned widely, nonplussed by his observation. “Yeah, but liking the classics isn’t indicative of gayness, honey.”
“I suppose not. I know Jay likes old movies. I remember him attempting to put me in a catatonic state over the deep meaning and historical significance of Gone with the freaking Wind .” Jack gave a disgruntled huff, but once again I noticed the laughter in his gaze. There was no malice in his words, just teasing observation.
I chuckled softly. “Jay and I have had many intense discussions about old cinema. He’s knows his stuff.” I paused before adding, “He’s a good man. Is it ever weird to?—”
Jack held up a hand to stop me from continuing. “Jay’s a great guy, but we’re not going down that avenue tonight, okay? We can talk Peter, Jay, and my infamous role of ‘the ex’ another time. I’m wondering something entirely different.”
“What’s that?”
“How much longer do we have to be on the dinner portion of the date? When do we get to go back to my place?” He affected a very casual tone, which he dropped dramatically as he held my gaze. “There is something about you in that suit that’s been driving me fucking crazy all night. When do we get to the clothing-optional part?”
The waiter passed by our table at that exact moment. I swallowed hard but had the presence of mind to reach out and touch his arm to get his attention.
“Check, please.”
I left my car at the restaurant. Even though it meant I’d have to backtrack later that night, I couldn’t resist the temptation of getting behind Jack on his big Harley. When we walked out through the crowded space to the street, he kept close by, his arm or fingers brushing against mine as though he needed to touch me. He didn’t hold my hand, but I had a feeling if we were in a different part of town, he would have done so, both for the physical contact and to stake his claim. I didn’t mind. It was a heady sensation to be the sole object of Jack’s desire.
I clung to him tighter than I normally would on the ride back to his place. I wrapped my arms low around his waist, sometimes brushing the upper part of his thick, muscled thighs. I pressed my chest against his back and let the vibration from the engine echo through my body. By the time we reached his place, I was keyed up and feeling a little reckless.
Jack drove down his street and pulled into an alley entrance, stopping outside a huge steel garage door. He tapped in a code and waited for the door to slide upward enough for us to pass through. Once we were inside, he killed the engine and gracefully dismounted, giving me a hand to do the same. A brief glance around told me we were in his shop. Motorcycles in various stages of repair filled the space. There were stations divided into neat working areas, some of which had elevated platforms. Each section was well equipped with parts and tools. The garage wasn’t huge but it was deep, and a lazy glance around the exceptionally tidy area told me there had to be at least thirty bikes being worked on.
Jack rolled his bike in front of a windowed corner office located on the opposite end of the garage. He stored his helmet and reached over to unfasten mine. I’d forgotten I was still wearing it. I’d been too busy checking out Jack’s shop. I knew this was where he spent most of his time. He loved the bar but he always made a point of talking about the great management he’d hired there. He stopped by a few times a week, but he wasn’t there daily, nor did I think he wanted to be. This garage, jam-packed with the old and weathered or the gently worn but broken… this was his passion.
He turned to me, offering a shy grin as he pulled me into the office. Our chests met with a force that stole my breath for a moment. Jack ran the fingers of his right hand through my hair in a sweet, tender gesture while his other kneaded my ass through my linen-blend trousers. He nudged my nose with his and licked a line across my lips, requesting immediate entry before he plunged his tongue inside my mouth, probing and demanding in a forceful assault. He backed off slightly and eased the pressure between us, turning his aggressive advance into a truly passionate kiss. My limbs felt like jelly. I wondered if I’d be able to stand on my own if he weren’t holding me.
“Fuck, Curt. I want you so fucking bad.” His low voice was graveled with need.
I couldn’t speak, so I nodded into his shoulder as I reached around to cup his ass and bring his pelvis forward to meet mine. Jack growled and pushed me back slightly to lean on the large modern-looking steel-and-wood desk in his small office. I got the idea we were staying here and gave a panicked look at the windows open to the garage. Jack caught my eye and took my chin in his hand, turning me to face him. His stare was intense and a little demonic. Without speaking one word, he was conveying a sure message. Trust me. I’m in control.
I gulped and reached forward with trembling fingers to unbutton his shirt. Jack grasped my hand firmly and shook his head.
“No. We’re doing this my way. Shhh. Don’t say a word. You don’t know… you’re here wearing this fucking sexy suit. I… you are like a fantasy come to life.”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline and I giggled like an idiot. I was still dressed for work and had sat in meetings or at my desk for twelve hours straight before meeting this deliciously hunky man in his perfectly pressed shirt, covering his insanely hot tattooed body, and his designer jeans, who could certainly be considered fantasy material. Me? Not so much. Jack cocked his head and gave me a fierce scowl.
“You’re killing my moment here, Curtis.”
“Sorry, but c’mon, me?”
“Yeah, you. I told you I have a thing for suits. Feel this.” He grabbed my palm and ran it over the outline of his erect penis through the thick fabric of his jeans. “I’ve been strung out sitting across from you during dinner, and don’t think I didn’t notice you draping yourself over my back like a fuckin’ monkey on the ride here. You make me nuts. I want to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless.” His ragged breath and the tension visible in his arms told me he was serious. “And… I want you to keep the suit on. Got it?”
“Uh….”
“No talking. Just nod your head yes.”
My mouth was dry. I licked my lips and swallowed hard, nodding in acquiescence.
Jack began to slowly undo his buttons. I reached out to help him and got my hand smacked for my effort.
“No. I’m calling all the shots.” He pointed his finger at me in warning as I opened my mouth to speak. “I said no talking, but here’s another rule: do only as you’re told. Follow my orders, follow my lead.”
I wanted to protest and thought I really should be angry at his high-handed bossiness, but for some reason everything he said and the tone in his voice did nothing but excite me, and in a strange way, it calmed me. Opposing emotions, I know, but the control freak in me was oddly grateful to give up the reins. Jack was strong, confident, and underneath the short leash he currently held on his passion, I knew I could trust him. So I inclined my head again and took a deep, cleansing breath.
Jack’s grin was wide and wicked. His fingers made quick work of his shirt, exposing his smooth, toned torso and giving me a delicious peek at his beautiful body art. I reached out instinctively, and once again he slapped my hand.
“You have a hard time listening, don’t you?” He kissed my palm softly and moved his hands down to work on his belt buckle. I sat as still as possible but I yearned to touch him. This was torture.
The sound of a zipper had me practically salivating. I licked my lips again and looked up to meet Jack’s eyes darkened with desire. He opened his jeans and slid them down his hips, exposing that delectable V trail leading straight to one thing I wanted more than anything in recent memory.
“On your knees, baby. Come suck my cock.”
My nostrils flared in anticipation, my hands were damp, and my heart thundered so loudly I was sure he could hear. I held eye contact for as long as possible before I dropped slowly to my knees on the concrete floor and waited for his next command. Jack pushed his jeans over his ass a little further and freed his heavy, thick cock from the confines of his boxers.
“Get to it, honey. Show me what you can do.”
I glanced up at Jack from my place between his legs and stuck my tongue out to lick the moisture gathered at the tip of his perfect dick. I heard him groan somewhere above me and felt his hands at the back of my head pulling me forward, urging me on. He wanted more and he didn’t want to be teased with catlike licks. I opened my mouth wide and took as much of him in my mouth as possible.
God, he tasted incredible. The slightly musky tang of his precum coupled with the natural manly scent of his skin was a powerful aphrodisiac. I was painfully aware of my own erection, and my hand flew naturally to my belt buckle only to have my face pulled away immediately from Jack’s rigid cock.
“Stand up.”
He helped me to my feet and captured my mouth in a searing kiss. His hands were everywhere. He moved them inside my jacket, splaying his long fingers firmly over my upper back. I tried to step back so I could remove the garment, but he kept me close, running sure hands over my ass and forcing my pelvis forward, grinding his naked, hard penis against my clothed one.
“Please, Jack.” I wanted more skin. Only his cock and a small bit of his chest were exposed. Jack held me tighter still.
“I said no talking.” He slid his shirt over his shoulders. He was anyone’s fantasy come true. Imposing and dignified, with his godlike, perfectly toned abs. His jeans were low on his hips, and his beautiful cock stood out straight and proud. “It’s not easy letting go, but tonight you’re going to give me everything. Turn around.”
I hesitated for a moment, not because I didn’t want to obey, but because I wanted to see him and hopefully touch him.
“Go on, Curtis. Don’t make me say it again.” The humor in his voice made me smile inside. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from laughing and turned obediently to face the desk. I leaned forward on my hands and looked up to see… the reflection on the windows that peered out into the garage beyond. They worked as well as any mirror, especially since it was dark. I could watch Jack moving behind me, and yes, he could watch me. I didn’t hide my smile this time. Jack had staged this. And it was really fucking hot.
“Unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants, but do not shove them down your legs, you hear?” I nodded once. “Good boy.”
Jack stepped back from behind me. I undid my belt and zipper quickly, listening to the sounds of him opening and closing a drawer nearby. Then he was back. I looked up to meet his eyes in the window’s reflection just as his right hand dove inside my boxer briefs to pull out my rock-hard prick. I shivered at his touch, loving the feel of him behind me, surrounding me, holding my flesh in his hands.
“Damn, you are so beautiful. I….”
I held as still as possible, listening to the deep timbre of his voice while he stroked my cock in a slow, sure rhythm. He pushed me lower on the desk so I couldn’t see our images in the window any longer, but it was his voice that held my attention. He spoke dirty words about the nasty things he wanted to do to me. The porn-star talk was a turn-on, but it was his tone that made me wild. I was having a difficult time standing still. I heard a bottle top open finally and felt the cool sensation of lube on my bare skin as Jack liberally coated his fingers, wrapping his right hand tightly around my dick while his left worked on stretching my hole. I had been so ready for so long. When the first digit breached my entrance, I wiggled back, encouraging him to keep going. I was so fucking horny. I didn’t want to waste any more time.
Jack chuckled softly behind me and made a comment about nothing happening until he was good and ready. I shoved my body up on my elbows and gave him a death glare in the window reflection. Jack laughed and caressed my ass before slipping a second finger inside. My breath caught. I heard the sound of a condom being unwrapped, and then he was inside me, slowly, a mere inch at a time, sweetly talking as he petted and stroked me, hands moving over my ass and down my thighs.
“Look at us, honey. Tell me that isn’t the fucking hottest thing you’ve ever seen.”
He gently turned my head to look to my left where our joined bodies were clearly reflected in a portion of the glass I hadn’t noticed yet. Jack, with his glorious tattooed arms and his naked torso on proud display, jeans hung low on his hips, allowing room for his sheathed cock to move inside me, while I was completely dressed in one of my best Zegna navy blue suits with a white Oxford-collared shirt.
Because of how my suit coat fell over my ass, I couldn’t clearly see Jack’s body penetrating mine. But that was the turn-on. It was happening. I could feel him moving deep inside me, holding my hips as he fucked me with renewed force. The picture we made obviously was a major turn-on to him too.
This was his fetish. He’d told me so weeks ago. Having any part of making his fantasy become reality was exhilarating. His hands roamed up my back to my shoulders and one of them snaked around to cover my neck. He pulled me up off the desk and wrapped me in his arms, never breaking the incessant tempo with his hips as his tongue searched for my mouth. We kissed and licked at each other in a sloppy attempt to get somehow closer.
“Jack, please….”
“What, honey? You ready to come?”
I nodded. Jack pushed me forward again and pushed both of our pants out of his way. Now our image looked like any good gay-porn office scene. Jack grabbed my hair hard and pounded his body into mine, his rhythm faltering as he closed in on his release. I reached down to finish myself off, but he beat me to it. His tight hold on my turgid member accompanied by his steady fucking motion was my undoing. I came violently, shaking through the throes of my orgasm. Jack was right behind me. He roared as he clutched at me for support while his body convulsed and trembled.
We stood like that for a long minute, waiting for a resurgence of energy that would enable us to disconnect and re-dress. I felt Jack move first, gently pulling out of me. I couldn’t move. I stayed where I was until I felt a cool cloth on my ass. I flinched and straightened, but was still slow to shift my weight.
“C’mon, honey. Let’s go upstairs.”
I leaned into Jack as he pulled me by the hand away from the desk, through the garage, and into a corridor leading upstairs to his private quarters. He shut lights off along the way and reset alarms diligently, but he never let go of my hand. I wondered about the power he had over me. I wasn’t the type of guy who easily complied or conformed. In fact, I was used to going against the grain and assuming I wouldn’t have anyone on my side. Giving up even the smallest bit of control was a huge deal for me. I think Jack knew it, but neither of us was ready to contemplate what any of this meant.
I spent the night at Jack’s after our first “date.” I hadn’t intended to but I was exhausted. When I woke up the next morning, I was angry at myself, but I took it out on him.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up. Why didn’t you take me back to my car? This is unbelievable. Do you know how much traffic I’m going to have to deal with to get from Dupont to Georgetown and then back downtown? Fuck!”
I scrambled out of his huge bed and headed to the bathroom. When I returned, he was still lying sprawled out naked in bed. He looked magnificent, and although I wanted to enjoy the eye candy, my natural proclivity for timeliness accompanied with a lack of caffeine was sending me into a mental tailspin.
“You have to get up. I need a ride to my car. Shit! Do you think I can get it at the restaurant? They won’t be open at six fucking a.m.!” I bit my lip, wondering what to do when I heard a low chuckle.
“Come back to bed.” Jack stretched an arm out in invitation.
“I have to get to work. And a ‘walk of shame’ through the streets of DC isn’t my idea of a great start to the day. C’mon, let’s go!”
“‘Walk of shame’? Curtis, you are high fucking maintenance. Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take you to your place. You can shower, change, whatever, and then I’ll take you to your office. You can deal with your car at lunchtime. If you need me to help you, I’d be happy to. See? No issues, no worries. Let’s make some coffee, and then we’ll be on our way.” Jack slung his long legs in front of him and gave me a kiss on the top of my head as he moved toward the bathroom.
“No time for coffee. Let’s go. Maybe you should just take me to the restaurant now. I can figure it out from there and?—”
“Hey, nothing happens without coffee. Stop freaking out and either go make us some or give me a minute in the bathroom and I’ll make it. Okay?” Jack’s tone was firm.
“Fine.” I re-dressed quickly in my suit pants and shirt, rolling up the sleeves as I made my way to Jack’s kitchen to start the coffee.
Everything in his place was pristine, almost as though no one lived there. Definitely the opposite of mine. I found the coffee and managed to get his high-tech machine working when he came up behind me, snaking his arms around my stomach and giving me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“Morning, handsome.”
I turned in his arms and buried my nose in his shoulder, loving the smell of him. Fuck, he was hot. His hands roamed over my ass and up my sides. I could forget everything I had to do that day if I wasn’t careful. I regretfully pulled away and asked where the cups were. Jack took over, pointing me toward a barstool at the kitchen island.
“Jack, we don’t have time to linger. I have to get to the office.”
“You will get to your office, darlin’. Just sit for a minute and have a cup of coffee.”
“We should have just gotten one on the way. Or you?—”
“Curt?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and drink. If nothing else, I need the caffeine to deal with you. I had no idea you were not a morning person.” He set a cup in front of me and leaned on the counter as he eyed me carefully over his own mug.
I rolled my eyes and took a careful sip. What could I say? He was right. I was horrible without coffee. The best part about living alone was not having to make polite small talk to your roommates first thing in the morning. I was so out of practice, there was no doubt I was acting like an ass.
“Sorry. I get anxious.” That was the best I could offer.
Jack’s grin was wide and generous. “Is that why you ripped my head off and then made a mess in my kitchen?”
The twinkle in his beautiful eyes invited me to relax, calm down, and try to see a lighter side rather than focus on things I couldn’t change. I gave him a tepid smile and ended up laughing. He was right. Caffeine wouldn’t solve my no-clothes issue and the very real dilemma of living across town, but it was a start.