18. Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
“Why is he so concerned about us being alone together?”
Fynn grins a bit and waggles his brows, giving me a devilish look.
“He isn’t really, I don’t think. I’ll chalk it up to nerves. Tonight matters a lot.”
“I know.”
“You matter a lot. That you are here matters more than I suspect you realize.”
I do realize. I think. Something happened just now at the door. I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. Is Fynn the reason he didn’t?
“What are you to him?”
“A friend.”
“Maybe the better question is, what is he to you?”
Fynn smiles. “A friend.”
“With benefits?”
He sighs and motions to the couch. “He hasn’t told you about me?”
“Not really…I think I’ve been a little afraid to know the truth.”
“You think I’m your competition?”
“Maybe,” I concede with a chuckle. Until our breakfast a few weeks ago. Until tonight. Until just a few moments ago, I had tamped down any idea of a romantic or sexual relationship with Nandy. What we have now, the friendship is far too important to me to screw it up with sex. I’ve never had sex with anyone I care about.
I’ve never cared about anyone as much as I care about Nandy. Fynn purses his lips and grins. “And you think you can’t compete with all this?” He turns his head and strikes a pose in all his eccentric, beautiful glory.
“You’re stunning.”
He falls out of the pose and gawks at me. Not the answer he expected from me. But he is. Fynn is the type of person who captures your attention. He dresses to capture it. He is bright and flashy himself, not just the clothes and makeup and jewelry. He’s hard to look away from once he has you. He isn’t classically beautiful. He isn’t handsome or good looking in the way that I am and he isn’t breathtaking in the same way that Nandy is. But he is stunning in some undefinable way. He is also unmistakably gay, but despite all the makeup and adornments, not at all feminine. I can’t put my finger on it, but whatever it is, he is beautiful and I like him. Like being around him.
I also suspect his outgoing personality and brash, filthy mouth is hiding something else. Some pain. All three of us do that. I used sex and bravado and false confidence, still do. Nandy hides behind his music.
That beautiful violin providing an excellent barrier for him. Fynn, the makeup and, like me, an outward confidence disguising the insecurities below.
“Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”
He plops down on the couch. “Sit.”
I sit at the opposite end of the couch, and we turn to face each other. It strikes me we are here, hours before we leave for the show. Fynn is in torn jeans that hug his firm body closely and a loose t-shirt with what looks like a prep school insignia on it. But his face is covered in full makeup. Those green eyes perfectly lined and so hard to look away from. Clear gloss makes his luscious lips look even more pillowy. He hasn’t shaved. Or rather, he has, but he has a perfectly trimmed, very short mustache and goatee. How is that so damn appealing with all the makeup? What does he look like without it? Why does he hide behind it?
“Are you ever without the makeup?”
He offers a small shake of the head, but no actual answer. He turns toward the windows overlooking the lake and for a split second, I think I see the bump of a scar along his cheek trailing down to his jaw.
“Nandy and I were in prep school together.”
I nod. That much I already know. “You aren’t the one who dared him to join the orchestra?”
He laughs. “No, I am the other violin player he met once he joined.”
I smile. How did I not put that together, that it was him? “You don’t play anymore?”
“Hell no. That was a parental requirement, and I was awful. Just ask Nandy.”
“This strip club you own—”
“Not strip club, sex club.”
I eye him, because I’m not sure I understand. I shake my head.
He chuckles, but not condescendingly. Sex club? I have heard of them. I guess, but… “Do you mean a brothel or an escort service?”
“It’s a club. A very exclusive and stupidly expensive private club. People pay a membership fee and that gives them use of the services offered. Kind of like a gym.” He laughs.
I smile. “And the services are sex?”
“If that’s what the member desires, yes. Sometimes it’s just watching. Sometimes it’s just being teased, fondled, toyed with to get things started between a couple. Sometimes it’s the chance to be with multiple partners or have an additional partner join a couple inside the safe confines of the club. Sometimes it’s kink. Sometimes it’s Dom/sub play…again in a safe space.”
My mouth is agape, and it causes Fynn to pause.
“I’m a little surprised this shocks you.”
“I just…. I guess I didn’t know places like that were real outside of like Vegas or something. It’s legal?”
Fynn smiles again. “On the edge,” he concedes. “It’s a lot of legal mumbo jumbo and loopholes and the fact that our membership includes many of the most powerful men and women in the city…hell the state. We don’t draw a lot of attention to ourselves…outside the security of the front doors, so as long as we maintain a low profile and the privacy of our members…. everything is good.”
I nod. “Impressive. And you own this?”
He nods.
“You work too?” I blurt it out before I can properly phrase the question, unsure if he will take offense. I clear my throat a bit.
“If you mean do I provide services myself? Yes, I do.”
“Nandy is a… member?”
He weighs his words carefully and eyes me. “Nandy is an…investor.”
I furrow my brow. So, he’s got a stake in this. Possibly a big one. Is this why he keeps me at arm’s length and farther? “But he has taken advantage of the services .”
His hesitation to answer that question tells me the answer is a resounding yes. And he takes advantage of those services with Fynn. And I return to my original question.
“What is your relationship with him? You guys are fucking?” My tone is sharp, filled with a jealousy I can’t control and it’s burning in my chest.
“We have, yes.”
That burning turns to stabbing.
“Recently?”
“TJ, if you and Nandy haven’t talked about this…I’m…you need to hear this from him.”
I stand and start pacing. Fuck, why am I so spun out about this? We are friends. He’s my best friend. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. I thought I was over the need to have sex with him. The need to be with a man. Because that is not what it is about anymore.
It’s about being with Nandy. His face is the one I see when I grab my dick in my hand at night and jerk the orgasm out hard and fast and rough.
I hadn’t been with a woman for months before I met him. Since meeting him, I haven’t even looked at a woman. And now I’m here in Nandy’s apartment with a stunningly beautiful man who has fucked the man I want. The man I thought I was happy to settle into a friendship with.
But he is actively fucking someone else, and that pisses me off. I sweep my hands through my hair and stare out the window.
“TJ,” Fynn is next to me now and his voice is soft and calm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You need to know…you are the one he wants. He has since he laid eyes on you.”
I turn, my mouth agape again. “But…”
“His past, I don’t know what he has told you…it’s not my story to tell—”
“I know there was someone who used him…went back to his wife…that’s why he is so determined to stay away from straight men.”
Fynn nods. “Yes. It was way more brutal than Nandy probably let on. It nearly broke him. It certainly made him give up on love and the possibility of a relationship. His music has always been his first love, and he then vowed it would be his only.”
“And you?” I ask.
“I was a place to get off. Something better than a hand.”
“Was?”
He looks at me. I’m hit with jealousy, but also a tinge of sadness that Fynn sees himself as nothing more than that. He deserves better.
“Are?”
“He wants you, TJ. He won’t admit it. And he may never give in…but he wants you. He cares about you.”
The churning in my gut won’t stop.
“Hey,” Fynn says, forcing my eyes to his again. “I am not your competition. This isn’t a competition. It isn’t a game. And tonight is way too important to the man we both clearly adore. Don’t you dare show up there in anything other than a joyous, supportive mood. Got it?”
I exhale and look at him. Taking a few more deep breaths, I nod.
“You, TJ, he wants you…. show him you are worth the risk. Show him you want him as much as I think you do. Show him that.”
He takes my hands much the way I did Nandy’s earlier and gives my arms a rough shake. Why does that always work?
“What is your real name?” He’s staring at my face as if he can figure it out just from a close examination of my features.
“Trevor…Trevor Jason…family names.”
He nods and smiles. Clearly expecting the usual Thomas John.
“Well, Trevor Jason,” his grip on my hands tightens. “Don’t you dare make tonight about you. This discussion you need to have with Nandy…that happens another night…got it? This one is all his.”
I nod and return the squeeze to his hands.
“Now, I have to go downstairs and figure out what I am going to wear and fix my face.”
I shake my head at him and smile. Then nod. “Okay.” I pause and he gives my arms one more shake. “Thank you for your honesty.”
“Oh, you’ll get nothing but that from me. Careful what you wish for, Trevor.”
He sashays toward the door, swinging his hips.
“Fynn,” I call out. He stops and turns before he ducks out of view. “Your face is perfect.”