Gift With Purchase

GIFT WITH PURCHASE

…Colin grabbed Tim by each arm and pulled him to a standing position. He surprised Tim by kissing him hard on the mouth. Tim grew wilder as his repressed desire threatened to unleash itself. He pressed his tongue deep inside Colin’s mouth. Prickles of heat ignited all over his body as Colin’s tongue moved against his. His thoughts melted into fire as he united with the wondrous man he’d longed for from a distance for so long. Tim felt Colin start to resist his tongue’s penetration and almost stopped, afraid he might offend him by pushing further. Just as he was about to pull away, however, Tim felt Colin take control of the kiss by shoving his tongue deeper into Tim’s mouth. Tim was surprised, but elated, by the sudden blast of passion he got from Colin. Colin suckled Tim’s tongue with fervor, and, at the same time, plunged his hands into Tim’s curls. Tim groaned out loud as the liquid heat melding their mouths stoked flames of desire throughout his cock and balls. He broke from the kiss and spoke in a breathless whisper. “Colin, I’ve got a massive hard-on. I mean, this is bad!” Colin slid his hand down to feel Tim’s erection. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “God! That feels wonderful.” He rubbed his hand over Tim’s shaft. “Oh, Tim, that is really wonderful. That’s divine.”

Tim grew still in the ecstasy of Colin caressing his penis, his mouth pressed against Colin’s lips. “I’ll bet it’s beautiful,” Colin whispered. “You’ll have to find out.” The rate of Colin’s breathing increased, until he slowed down his tender rubs to a full stop. Tim sensed the fog of desire dissipating. “I want to,” Colin said, “when the time’s right…”

ALSO BY S HARA B LOODSTONE Gotcha! My Comic Valentine Private Audition Sultry Urban Nights Urban Ambrosia

GIFT WITH PURCHASE BY SHARA BLOODSTONE

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

GIFT WITH P URCHASE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2008 by Shara Bloodstone ISBN 978-1-60272-182-1 Cover Art © 2008 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For Christopher, at Saks .

GIFT WITH PURCHASE

CHAPTER 1 As usual, Tim Wilson was in a hurry to get to work. But today, his arrival on the selling floor plunged him into an unexpected array of free-lance models. Brandishing spray colognes and eau de toilettes, more than twenty-five young ladies hugged the parameters of the Dina Lawson Cosmetics bay. By sheer number, they practically dominated Bartons’ fragrance and cosmetics department. Tim stood back for a good look at the pretty intrusion into the world-famous Fifth Avenue store. At first, he compared the string of lovely freelancers dressed in royal blue smocks to the image of a sparkling sapphire necklace. Once he experienced their aggression toward innocent shoppers, however, his impression 1

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switched to that of sentries guarding a fortress wall, armed and readied for attack. The first girl Tim encountered was stationed by a corner. As soon as she spotted him adjusting his tie, she wasted no time in pouncing. “Free gift with purchase, sir,” she announced, aiming her spritzer at him. “Try Dina Lawson’s fragrance for men?” Tim shook his head and managed to step out of her reach when the next cologne-dispensing model turned toward him. When she also threatened to squirt him from her tester, he waved her away and picked up his pace. He didn’t see the third free-lancer, a perky blond, until after she’d jumped out and landed inches in front of him. “Free gift with purchase, sir,” she said in a flirty voice. “Christmas is just around the corner. Take care of that special lady in your life and get a bonus gift!” Tim spoke a tad sharper than he’d intended. “I work here, for God’s sake.” The blond giggled. “Oops, sorry. It’s my first day in this store. Don’t know everybody, yet.” “No problem,” he said, yielding to professional politeness. But, just to be safe, he arched away from her line of fire. Before he’d gone too far, the blond snapped her fingers and turned back toward him. “That’s who you remind me of,” she called out, “Orlando Bloom!” The compliment dissolved his defenses. Tickled at being compared to the handsome movie star yet again, Tim waved 2

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and smiled as he slipped behind his selling bay. Lulu Felino, a light-haired beauty with a bronzy complexion, was leaning over a small mirror on the counter top. Enthralled in the application of Norg’s “Mochachino” lipstick, she layered it on without restraint. “Work those lips, mama,” Tim joked. “You know it, baby,” she shot back. Tim took his place at the counter beside her. He glanced at Lulu’s spectacular good looks and sighed; he wished she was still pursuing the singing career she’d originally come to Manhattan for, and had recently given up on. He declined mentioning it again, however. “I was attacked by the Lawson girls on my way in,” he remarked. “I forgot this is their free-gift-with-purchase week. What a nightmare.” Lulu smacked her lips together and scrutinized her reflection. Satisfied, she rolled the lipstick down and snapped on its cover. “No kidding,” she said. “Those bitches are gonna be here all week long, stepping on our sales.” “Right. Like my numbers weren’t bad enough last week. Now I have to contend with the big gorilla.” “Boyfriend, if I don’t get my figures up,” Lulu lamented, “I won’t make bonus for November. Not to mention, the company’ll be up my ass until Christmas is over.” “Tell me about it,” Tim said. He happened to glance over at the blond free-lancer whose clutches he’d just escaped. She was working her charms on a 3

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young male executive-type Tim figured was on break from one of the myriad office buildings in the area. “See that little blonde, over there?” he asked Lulu. “She tried to sell me fragrance for ‘the special lady’ in my life.” Lulu let out a snuff of amusement. “So, what’d you say?” “What was I going to say? ‘Sorry, no gift today. I happen to be gay.’” They both chuckled. In that instant, they sensed a force erupting from the vestibule behind them. Bartons’ vast fragrance and cosmetics department favored boutique-style selling. Sales counters were joined together to form one of a dozen islands or bays around the main floor. Each selling bay had been built around a core vestibule, which housed registers, wrapping paper, bags and telephones. Employees had access to the vestibules’ interiors from either side of the bay around them via the open doorways on each side. Another of Tim’s colleagues, Dagan Lewis, had been talking on the phone inside one such vestibule when Tim came up behind his counter. Without turning, Tim sensed him heading down the aisle toward Lulu and him. Dagan rushed up to them with authority and a tongue-in-cheek sense of urgency. When they finally turned and looked at him, he launched into a lecture, smacking his palm for emphasis in rapid-fire succession against the counter-top. “Be proud, dammit,” he blasted forth. 4

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Dagan loved to get a rise out of people. His buddies listened with the assurance that at any second they’d hear him say something outrageous. He wasted no time in fulfilling their expectations. Used to his antics, however, both associates feigned nonchalance. “You’re a faggot, man,” he said to Tim, “so let the whole world know!” As usual, the humorous undertone of his blowhard antics won chuckles from Lulu and Tim, so he continued with aplomb. “Next time some little Lawson upstart stops you and tries to sell you like a hetero,” he railed, forefinger crooked in the air, “you say flat out, ‘No thanks, my dear, I’m queer, do you hear? Queer, queer, queer! Now, get away from here!’” Lulu giggled and shook her head. “You are too much.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Dagan. Here, let me write that one down. I’ll be sure to use it in the future. No doubt management will appreciate it.” “What, Dick Jasper, the little dwarf? He’s probably as queer as a three-dollar bill, too, don’t you know?” “Ugh,” Tim joked. “Don’t want him on our side of the fence, thank you very much.” “Hell, we don’t want him either,” Lulu added with a grimace. “Well, so, nobody wants him,” Dagan said with a grandiose sweep of his arm. “In that case, he can just go home and fuck himself alone.” Tim mumbled in self-deprecation, “Like me.” 5

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“Yeah, but you do it by choice,” Lulu reminded him. Tim bent down behind his counter and reached inside the bottom shelf to straighten his product line. Meticulous about placement, he aligned each and every row of Isadora Lang fragrance, lotions, creams and powders on a daily basis. He took his time working his way up all four shelves. Lulu kept an eye out for potential customers while stooping down to chat with Tim. “It’s not like you’re not gorgeous, darling,” she chided him playfully. “One look at those Hershey Kiss eyes of yours and you’ve got them drooling all over you. It’s not like you don’t get offers all the time.” Tim shrugged. “Not from the right people.” Dagan’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Oh, pull-eese! Looking for love all of a sudden?” Tim didn’t respond as he continued organizing. Dagan wouldn’t let the subject go. “Oh, so you are! Since when?” “Since when what?” Tim sighed in mock defeat. “All right, I’ll admit it…love would be nice for a change.” “Oh, no,” Dagan reiterated. “Timothy Wilson, don’t bullshit me! You and your little dancer friends are known for making sex sport. Since when does love come into the picture?” Lulu spoke in Tim’s defense. “Come on, Dagan. Give him a break. Maybe he’s tired of meaningless sex. Maybe he wants true love in his life. He’s entitled to that.” Emblazoned by an outrage that was only quasi-serious, 6

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Dagan’s eyes bulged from his head. “Meaningless sex is great,” he hissed. “Fucking for sport is the way to go. Especially when you’re only twenty-five. Don’t get all sissy on me, Wilson, and start telling me you’ve suddenly got to have love.” He put a hand on his hip and took a flamboyant stance. “I used to look up to you. You were always my role model for picking up the best hotties in a nightclub. Don’t go letting me down now!” Tim let out an audible sigh. “Maybe a person just gets tired of certain things after a while. You know?” “No, I don’t know! You might, but I—” “Shut up, Dagan,” Lulu interrupted. “I need to make a sale.” Dagan was aptly subdued by the appearance of a coiffed, older lady eyeing the make-up displayed at Lulu’s counter. “Hello, there, m’am,” Lulu said in an inviting voice. “How are you, today? Have you tried Norg cosmetics, before?” When the lady bought into Lulu’s sales pitch, Dagan slid around and stood on the other side of Tim. He leaned down and spoke in hushed tones, so that Tim alone would hear him. “True love is overrated, puppy. You know that. Now, true lust—that’s something else, entirely!” Tim continued working. “Been there, done that,” he cracked in a world-weary voice. “And so you shall, forevermore!” Tim looked up and offered Dagan an intentionally bland look before returning to the task at hand. He stretched his arm along the top row, just beneath the glass counter top, groaning 7

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as he strained to straighten the merchandise in the front without upsetting the rows of boxes he was reaching over. Dagan bent close to his ear and growled in a low voice, “Getting fucked good and hard, and as often as possible…that’s what it’s all about.” Even though he tried not to, Tim couldn’t help but laugh at the zany manner with which Dagan put things. The guy thrived on sexual banter and loved shocking his listener with outlandish proclamations. Tim stood and slumped his shoulders to acknowledge defeat. “Okay,” he said, shaking his head, “you win. You are positively insatiable.” Dagan jutted his chest out as though he’d won the final round in a boxing match. “I am insatiable,” he responded with sassy sarcasm. “And thank you for noticing.” He pursed his lips in imitation of Marilyn Monroe while smoothing down the black ringlets that fell onto his forehead. Tim shook his head and chuckled. With a flirty flounce, Dagan whirled around and crossed behind Lulu, back to his own counter. *

*

*

Tim wrapped an Isadora Lang body cream and matching eau de toilette between layers of violet tissue paper. He then tucked them with care into the Bartons On Fifth shopping bag and lifted the glossy, gold sack by silken cord-handles. “There you are, Mrs. Rossiter. Enjoy your products.” He also presented her his business card. “And, please, let me 8

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know if there’s anything else I can do for you in the future.” While closing the sale, he’d sensed a couple of people watching him from the aisle. Once Mrs. Rossiter had gathered her things and departed, Tim turned to find whose eyes were upon him. There stood Susan Waters, the sales executive from Isadora Lang, alongside Dick Jasper, department manager for fragrance and cosmetics. Susan rushed up to Tim with the “little dwarf” in tow. “Darling!” She threw herself across the countertop and placed a European-style kiss on each of Tim’s cheeks. “Susan.” He found her excitement catching. “So good to see you.” “Here,” Susan offered, “let me come around.” Tim shot Dick a perfunctory smile. Dick nodded in response, but turned to watch the tall, blond executive walk away. Dressed in a sleek, black Chanel suit that showed off her long legs, she strode down the aisle and turned right. Tim listened to her Manolo Blahnicks click-clack along the marble floor until they’d been silenced by the carpeting behind the bay. Susan squeezed Tim in an affectionate hug. “Good job, Timbo! Counter space is looking super.” Tim marveled that Susan was always upbeat and enthusiastic. Whatever she’s on, I want some. “And I’ve got some great news for you,” she continued. Dick added a dry, officious, “Yes, this is very good.” He 9

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never expressed real enthusiasm about anything. “We are moving!” Susan announced with a squeal of delight. She clapped her hands. “Moving?” Tim repeated, somewhat dazed. “Yes, darling.” When she ceased clapping, she clasped her hands together in a prayerful position. “We’ve finally gotten the spot right next to John Divine. We’ve been vying for it the past year.” Tim wrinkled his brow at the idea of having to move, even if it was to a better selling location. Then his thoughts flashed onto the beautiful man who acted as counter manager over the prestigious John Divine collection, and his pulse quickened. A sudden whoosh of excitement grabbed hold of him, and he felt flushed. “Wow,” he said, “that’s an awesome spot. John Divine is Bartons’ number one fragrance.” He looked at Dick. “Right?” “That’s right,” the department manager agreed. “That ought to be a boon to you guys. Our Bartons associates over in that bay have an amazing client list. They’ll help boost your sales considerably, especially during the holidays.” “And here’s the best part of all.” A grin transformed Susan’s classic features into an impish expression. “We’re doing a free gift with purchase right after Thanksgiving. What a way to kick off Christmas!” Tim raised his brows in surprise. “But I thought Isadora Lang didn’t want to go that route.” “Initially, we didn’t. But marketing decided this is the best way to go, in the long run. Especially in launching our new 10

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ancillary products. And to help get store sales to that million dollar mark by the twenty-fifth!” Tim didn’t want to say how he looked down his nose at megalithic companies that enticed buyers by offering freebies. That’s why he’d been attracted to Isadora Lang in the first place. Since its inception four years ago, his line had catered to individuals with the taste to appreciate top quality products, and the money to afford the line’s high end items. Now, it seemed, the company was back-pedaling, stooping to marketing ploys directed toward mass appeal. I guess everybody succumbs to greed in the end. But Tim knew better than to express anything less than total enthusiasm for company decision-making. Rocking the boat, so to speak, would amount to no good. He shrugged in compliance. “Hey, whatever you say. It sounds good to me.” He smiled. “You guys are the experts.” While Susan and Dick discussed details for the upcoming move, Tim only half-listened, nodding now and then to indicate agreement. In truth, he was barely able to focus on what they were saying. He was swooning with delight at the thought of working beside John Divine’s handsome counter manager. The tall, debonair Colin Welling was a man he’d admired from a distance for years. *

*

*

From behind the new location for Isadora Lang fragrances, Tim hawked the aisles for potential customers. He stopped and grinned. 11

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Here comes Lulu. He chuckled at the exaggerated diva-walk she was using to sashay toward his counter. “Mmm, boyfriend,” she purred “I was gonna give you a hard time for leaving me over there. But, now that I’m here, I can’t blame you. You’re in a hot-spot now.” “You think?” “Hello? Especially with those Lawson bitches still flooding the aisle over there. With their stupid free gift, I don’t stand a chance. They’re like frigging vultures, swooping down on every person who comes out of the atrium or off the elevators. By the time customers reach my counter, they’re running for the exit doors.” “I remember, believe me.” “But this is a fine spot, my man. Good traffic from three entrances. Plus, the intersection in the aisles here. I’m jealous.” “Don’t be. I’ve got a ‘free gift’ in two weeks.” “Are you kidding? Isadora Lang is doing a free gift?” Tim’s voice dripped sarcasm. “It’s the wave of the future.” “Well, shit, I’m jealous of that, too! Pump up my sales in a big way.” Behind the bay where Tim was standing, a petite, maniacal blond in her late forties raced toward him, her arms filled with fragrance and body products. “Look out, look out,” she ordered. “Make way! I got a sale to ring here.” Fearing a collision, Tim pressed himself flat against his 12

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counter to let her pass. She squeezed behind him and scurried into the vestibule. Lulu lowered her voice. “Plus, you’ve got Barbie, the monster sales woman of all time.” “Tell me about it,” Tim said with a chuckle. “My second day, and I’ve heard four times already how she’s the number one sales associate for fragrance and cosmetics at Bartons.” “I’m sure she is. Her client book is worth a fortune,” Lulu said in open appreciation. “She’s got Rothschilds, Rockefellers, and the King of Brunei in there, among others.” Tim sighed. “If I can put up with her long enough to make it worth my while.” “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way. Hey, you coming upstairs for lunch with Dagan and me?” “Of course.” “See you then, baby.” *

*

*

Except for a cavernous ceiling, the employee cafeteria at Bartons On Fifth was not unlike those of other Manhattan institutions. Row upon row of long tables with faux wood tops extended out from the area where hot food and sandwiches were served. Lulu, Tim and Dagan paid the cashier for their lunches and carried their trays to a table behind a large, square pillar. Lulu seated herself in the nearest chair, while Tim, still holding his tray, maneuvered one around with his foot. Dagan placed his 13

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lunch down and reached around to pull in a disengaged chair. Without waiting for her friends to sit, Lulu grabbed a shaker, lobbed copious amounts of red pepper onto her pizza slice, and shoved the pointed end into her mouth. “Ooh, hot,” she said, sucking in air to cool off the bite. Between chewing and swallowing, she asked Dagan, “So, did you finally get together with that guy, or what?” “Oh, sí, mommy,” Dagan answered, bringing his chair around. “Sí, sí. And he did me so good!” Tim had taken off his jacket and placed it over the back of his chair before sitting. “What,” he asked, “the little Latin guy?” He took his time arranging himself. “Mexican,” Dagan clarified. “I love the way they fuck, those Mexican boys. The way they grab your ankles, hold them together, and ay-ee—shove it in me, fuck me hard!” He remained standing to demonstrate the sexual technique to which he’d just alluded. Reaching up three feet or so, he mimed holding together a set of ankles on the tabletop before him and thrust his hips to simulate the act of sodomy he’d described. Lulu and Tim watched Dagan pump his hips into his invisible lover’s rump. Tim hoped there was no one in earshot paying attention to Dagan’s antics. “Yeah, poppy,” Dagan continued, “fuck me harder, harder—ungh! Oh, yeah, poppy, that’s so good!” Lulu burst out laughing. “I thought this guy was married,” Tim said as he buttered 14

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his bread. “Yeah, so?” Dagan concluded his kinky demonstration and sat himself down. “His wife’s back in Mexico for two weeks with the kids. He always calls me when she goes out of town.” He shoved a turkey-on-a-hard-roll between his teeth and chomped. Between bites, Dagan asked Tim, “So, how do you like working next to Colin?” “Haven’t really met him yet. He wasn’t there yesterday or today. Off on some shoot.” “Oh.” Dagan spoke while sipping soda through a straw. “Which one?” “How should I know? Barbie just said he was shooting and would be in tomorrow.” “Now, there’s a piece of work for you, that Barbie Bloomstein,” Dagan said. “No kidding,” Tim agreed. Lulu chimed back in on the subject of John Divine’s counter manager. “You know, Colin is, like, the king of extras.” Tim looked at her with a dry expression. “‘King of extras’?” “Yeah. He works on film and TV sets. Like, background actors and bit players. All the time, though. He gets booked a lot.” “That’s kind of neat,” Tim said. “His company doesn’t mind him taking time off like that?” “His company loves him,” Lulu said. “I guess he can do 15

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whatever he wants, at this point. As long as his numbers are where they’re supposed to be.” The familiar rush of adrenaline Tim got any time he thought about Colin pumped through his system. While his two friends chatted on about other things, he thought back to the first time he’d seen the man, over four years ago. That was the first time he’d worked at Bartons, too, hired as a freelancer for Eden fragrances. He recalled being stationed at a display table in the center aisle that was topped by a huge vase of luscious flowers. After a frustrating half-hour spent trying to spritz the wrists of shoppers too busy to comply, he’d stopped and zoned out, staring at nothing in particular. That’s when he’d heard a theatrical voice penetrate the usual store buzz. “Evermore, ladies,” the deep, clear voice had announced. “Evermore fragrance.” The rich quality of the man’s voice, perfect in enunciation, had intrigued Tim. He’d cocked an ear to listen more closely. “Evermore fragrance, ladies,” the man had continued chanting. “Light, feminine, elegant, eternal. The number one fragrance here at Bartons…and throughout the world!” Tim had been amazed and impressed by the man’s disciplined repetition of his spiel, saying it over and over, time and again. The voice stopped only when he succeeded in garnering the attention of a potential buyer. Tim had decided to relinquish his flower table for a little break, so he paid a visit to the water fountain. After he’d slurped up enough water to satisfy himself, he sought out the 16

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Evermore fragrance counter and the voice that represented it. And that was when he first laid eyes on Colin Welling. Behind the counter in the fragrance bay, Colin had stood tall, refined, and impeccably dressed in an Armani tuxedo. His short, shiny blond hair had glistened, even under the dull yellow haze of fluorescent lights. As Tim honed in on the striking figure, he was struck by the outlandish sparkle and freakish clarity of Colin’s blue eyes. In thinking about it now, Tim doubted he’d have walked up to the counter if Colin hadn’t burned those eyes into him at that very instant; he’d have been too intimidated to approach and would have opted to slink away instead. But, as Colin bored his eyes into Tim, he also gave him an elegant nod. This gesture had been enough to encourage Tim to go on up and just say, “Hi.” “Well, hi to you, too. Are you from the Midwest?” he’d surprised Tim by asking, “Yes. Indiana. How could you tell?” Colin had smiled. “Too long doing this, probably.” He’d stared at Tim a moment before asking, “Are you looking for a special fragrance today?” Tim had blushed. “No, no, I’m actually working. Free lance—for Eden. We’re launching their new scent this week. ‘Bella Ardor.’ I was standing by that flower table over there and I went to get some water.” “I worked for Eden, too, years ago, when I first started out in this business. Not a bad line.” Then Colin had chuckled. “At least they pay on time.” “Well, that’s good to hear.” Tim then suffered a sudden 17

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bout of self-consciousness. “I guess I’d better back to the table now. Nice to meet you.” Colin had given him a half-bow and said, “Nice meeting you, too. Good luck.” They’d never exchanged names, Tim recalled. Later on, Tim had asked around about the tall, handsome Evermore rep, only to find out he was taken. Tim learned Colin was involved with an older man, with whom he’d been living for years. And, apparently, he was steadfast in his devotion. So, Tim had limited their conversation to the occasional “Hello,” and continued admiring him from afar. Only, now, Tim would be standing within two feet of Colin on a daily basis. It certainly wouldn’t be a problem keeping it business-like, since Colin always behaved as the consummate professional. And, since their initial encounter, Tim, too, had become a top-notch salesman and learned how to behave with decorum. So their working relationship would, no doubt, proceed without drama. Except—Tim had heard Colin’s long-time lover had passed away last year. That’s so sad, Tim thought, recalling his reaction when he’d first heard the news. But, that makes Colin available now. Doesn’t it? *

*

*

Tim was still perfecting the knot on his tie when he came rushing through the employee coat check door onto the selling 18

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floor. He looked up in time to see rabid lady shoppers clustered between the free-lance models at the Dina Lawson bay. “Damn,” he mumbled, “I should’ve gone the other way.” He passed by the crowded aisle and turned down the other end, even though it took him well out of his way. His detour brought him around the backside of his own selling bay. As he walked up alongside of it, he was better able to observe what gave John Divine the optimum location. First, he noticed the counter space was one of a limited number in the whole department to wrap around both corner sides of a bay. Second, he saw its apex also accessed the heart of the intersection between four main aisles. Then, Tim stopped short—for there stood Colin Welling. Dressed in a tux, Colin’s ash-blond hair was swept back into the lines of a perfect cut only the best of New York stylists could render. His high cheekbones and chiseled features struck Tim as regal. Tim marveled at how the man’s presence lent an instantaneous aura of elegance to his surrounding environment. With a final adjustment to his tie, Tim shrugged his shoulders into place. When he ran his fingers through his dark, thick waves, he felt them curl around his collar. Shit—I should have gotten a trim. Since he was still in the aisle outside his selling bay, Tim came around the front to make a visual check of his counter. He assumed an air of importance as he stepped back to scrutinize the display he’d set up the day before. When he 19

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glanced up, he found himself looking into Colin’s crystalline eyes. Was it his imagination, or did Colin appear amused? Tim flushed, feeling self-conscious next to the princely bearing he attributed to Colin. He cleared his throat to speak, but the lump of excitement he felt made him swallow instead. “Checking out your new home?” Colin asked. Tim managed to find his voice. “Yeah, why not. Figured I’d give it the once-over before I come around.” “That’s a good idea, checking it out from the other side.” He watched Tim a moment. “You know, we’ve never been formally introduced. We’ve seen each other around, but…” He reached across the counter. “I’m Colin Welling. How do you do?” Tim clasped the smooth, manicured hand Colin extended. As soon as he did, he worried that Colin might think his rough and dry, in comparison with his own. Touching Colin’s flesh sent a tingle up Tim’s spine, from his tailbone straight up to the follicles in his scalp. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he feared his sudden arousal might give him away. He fought to keep it down, “Hi, Colin. I’m Tim. Wilson.” He forced himself to act with professionalism and avoided the urge to flirt. “Nice to meet you.” “Nice to meet you, too.” “I’ve heard great things about you,” Tim added. A pang of worry hit him as he wondered if that sounded foolish. Colin took his hand back and folded it neatly under the 20

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other on the counter before him. “Oh? That’s nice to know. I hope I can live up to them.” “I have no doubt you will.” Tim felt himself blushing. “Well, all righty, then.” He turned on his heel and came back behind the bay. A moment later, he was standing beside Colin. “Welcome,” Colin said. Tim detected a glint of humor in Colin’s expression, or one of amusement perhaps. He couldn’t be sure, so he simply said, “Thank you.” It took every ounce of self-discipline Tim possessed to focus on his job. He faced the aisle and scoped it out for customers. He found himself having to push away encroaching passion any time he looked at Colin. He kept his eyes off the man because he was certain he’d gawk, or his tongue would hang from his mouth as he drooled with desire. Colin finally engaged a lady’s interest in his product line. While Colin worked, Tim eavesdropped. As he listened, he marveled at Colin’s smooth salesmanship. He was impressed with the way Colin showed products without being overbearing, using seduction instead of aggression. And that silken voice—the richness with which Colin spoke—was positively mesmerizing. The lady must have thought so, too, because she was taking the bait, hook, line and sinker. Colin was reeling her in, selling her one thing after another, with not one iota of pushiness. Tim sighed and thought about his massive attraction to Colin over the years, starting with that mellifluous voice. He 21

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recalled how he’d actually stand there, whenever he got the chance, to listen—with discretion, of course—to Colin’s pitch for Evermore fragrance. Even after he’d been hired as counter manager for Isadora Lang, Tim would intentionally walk within earshot of Colin’s Evermore spiel, just to hear his voice. Later, Colin had been hired to launch the new fragrance line for designer John Divine. Soon, his efforts had helped develop John Divine into the top selling fragrance at Bartons. And, now, Tim was working beside this elegant man who’d become one of the most sought-after vendor representatives on Fifth Avenue. Tim also thought Colin happened to be the most handsome, classy man he’d ever seen. While he thought about the time he’d spent admiring Colin from a distance, his memory flashed to the scores of shortlived, meaningless relationships and one-night stands he’d had. Not one of them could ever measure up to the handsome, devoted lover and professional who personified what he most admired in a man. Frankly, Tim had grown sick and tired of settling for less. He’d closed himself off from former lovers and ceased to seek out new ones. He coached himself to keep the faith and believe in his heart that the right man would come along one day to engage him in a meaningful relationship. What a wonderful coincidence, he decided, to now be placed in a position where he’d be working beside the beautiful man of his dreams—a man no longer bound by 22

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relationship constraints in getting to know him. Coincidence? Maybe it’s more than that. Maybe some things are meant to be.

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CHAPTER 2 Tim bolted behind the Isadora Lang counter, late, yet again. As he took his usual stance, he was surprised to see Colin massaging cream into an elderly woman’s hand. Surprised, because he was selling Isadora Lang, not John Divine. “Now, Madame,” Colin was saying, “you must admit…this one’s light and floral. Don’t you agree?” The elderly lady nodded as if hypnotized. “My,” she said, enraptured by Colin’s sensual attention to her hand. “That is simply delightful!” Colin nodded with authority and continued with his ministering. Finally, the lady could no longer contain herself. 24

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“All right,” she said a pleading voice, “I’ll take it. As a matter of fact, I’ll take two—one for my granddaughter.” “The large size,” Colin inferred rather than asked. “Yes, of course.” She turned to the dark-skinned nurse who accompanied her. “Cherry, kindly pay the young man.” The nurse dug into the satchel on her arm. “Oh,” the woman added, “you know, my daughter, Maya, will be jealous if I don’t bring one for her, as well. I guess you’d better give me another, so no one feels left out at Sunday dinner.” Colin nodded and acquiesced. The lady stopped him again. “And it just so happens,” she said, “that Cherry’s birthday is coming up. Let’s add one more in, for her.” “Oh, Mrs. Reingold, you don’t have to do that—” “I don’t have to do much, these days, believe me, I know. I do this because I choose to do it. Now, Cherry, be a good girl and give the lovely man some money.” “Yes, m’am. Thank you.” “You are too kind, madam,” Colin said. He accepted the cash Cherry offered, went into the vestibule, and brought back her change. After handing the purchase to Cherry, he gave the wizened lady a half-bow. Cherry maneuvered the large shopping bag onto the arm holding her satchel and steadied Mrs. Reingold with her other arm. The lady departed as though walking on clouds. “Wow,” Tim said in a quiet voice, “success! And everybody’s happy! Thank you so much.” “You’re most welcome,” Colin answered. “As a matter of 25

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fact—” He handed Tim a small sheet with a slew of numbers jotted down. “I sold a few items for you this morning.” Tim ran his eyes down the list of numbers. “You sold all this, for me?” “Well, your line is easy to sell. They’re very nice products.” “Yeah, but…what about yours?” “Of course, I always push John Divine first. But that doesn’t mean it’s right for everybody. When a customer passes on my products, I show them yours. And, so on, from counter to counter, around the bay. It’s a one-hand-washesthe-other kind of thing.” “Of course. That’s very courteous of you. And professional, I might add.” Brief disappointment washed over Tim, however. He’d been hoping Colin had done this not as a matter of protocol, but in an effort to curry his personal favor. “So,” Colin asked, “what held you up? Subway problems?” “Uh, no,” Tim answered. Then he grinned. “I mean, yes, if Dick Jasper asks, that’s what held me up, all right. But, actually, it was my ballet class this morning. Great class! I got so into it, I didn’t realize we were running over.” “That’s right. Barbie mentioned you’re a grad student at NYU.” “Yup. Getting my masters in dance.” “I admire that. Someone who follows their passion, to make a living at it.” “Yeah?” 26

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“Absolutely.” “Well, I haven’t got there, yet.” “But, you will.” “Right now it’s not the easiest thing to do—balancing a counter manager job with my studies. And I’ve got to make sure I don’t let the golden handcuffs stick. Even though it’ll be a challenge to make money in dance right away, I’ll have to let go of this at some point.” “The golden handcuffs! You’re right about that. It’s easy to get sucked into a cushy lifestyle and forget to pursue your dream.” He pursed his lips, momentarily lost in thought before he spoke again. “So, what do you see yourself doing, once you finish your studies?” “I’d like to choreograph, but I’ll probably end up teaching right away. I’d like to do some soloist work with small companies here and there. Don’t know just yet how it’ll all turn out. Got to concentrate on it in the next few months, though.” Right at that moment, a mom and her two daughters walked up to the John Divine counter. Tim was annoyed to have his conversation interrupted; he’d liked the feeling of having Colin’s attention all to himself. I could really get used to that. The teen queen in braces squealed, “Mom, Mom—John Divine! This is the one I was talking about. It’s so cool!” Before Tim let Colin get back to business, however, he touched his arm. “Listen,” he offered, “I’d love to talk more sometime. 27

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Over coffee, maybe? You know, when there’s fewer distractions around.” Colin shot him an incredulous look. Tim wondered if he’d made his invitation sound too much like a date. “I mean, I’d love to hear more about what you do, too, when you’re not here,” Tim explained. He felt his cheeks redden. “Your film and television work…” Colin nodded and turned to John Divine’s adoring fans. *

*

*

Tim overcame his initial reluctance to use a “gift with purchase” as soon as he discovered how easy it made closing the sale. Few women exhibited self-restraint once he showed them the goodies they’d receive if they’d just make the purchase right then and there. The velvet cosmetics case with the golden “IS” logo clasp was reminiscent of the forties-style Hollywood chic for which designer Isadora Lang had first become famous. As the fragrance line’s first “free gift,” the cosmetics case had been designed and assembled with care. Tim touted it as a potential collectors’ item, a must have for any female who wanted to be part of the sultry world Isadora Lang made so attractive on the runway and in fashion magazines. It was all the more essential to the majority of shoppers who would never come close to owning an original Lang design themselves. So, while Tim felt like something of a sell-out, he couldn’t deny how the free gift was helping him churn out big numbers 28

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that week. He shook his head in wonder at the sales increase he read in each morning’s report. By the time Thursday rolled around, Tim had construed the perfect timing for showing the miniature items included in the travel case. One tourist from Wisconsin was typical of the overall reaction to seeing the precious items. “Oh,” she gushed, “I collect miniatures! I just have to have these sweet little bottles and jars.” She turned to her sister beside her. “Have you ever seen anything so adorable, Alma?” Alma shook her head in wonderment. “They are precious, June. Perfect for your collection.” Alma turned to Tim. “You know, these make great Christmas gifts, too. I’d be crazy not to pick up a couple of them.” Tim used the bargaining tactics he’d figured out worked with the free gift crowd. “Now, listen,” he would say, “here’s what we can do.” He’d insinuate he was making up an offer on the spot, especially for them. “If you buy, let’s say, a large item of each product, I can give you a free gift for each. Buy four, plus a perfume, and I’ll throw one in for good measure.” He almost felt embarrassed when he caught Colin chuckling as he listened in. Fearing he might react defensively toward Colin from the tawdry tactics he was stooping to use, he focused only on Alma and her sister and proceeded to turn the screws. “This is the first time Isadora Lang has ever done anything 29

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like this. Other stores don’t have it yet, it’s only in New York.” He wasn’t sure if that part was true, but it worked in pushing the sale to a close. “I can’t resist,” Alma said. “Let’s do it.” In spite of what Tim perceived as a lack of finesse in selling strategy, he closed June and Alma’s sale, and dozens more like it. As always, Colin was helpful. When Tim apologized for his customers crowding the Divine counter, hogging space beyond what was rightfully his, Colin merely shrugged. “This is your time, Tim. I’m not worried about it. Get it while you can. The Divine line always makes a comeback— especially at Christmas.” Tim discerned no attitude or anger from Colin, which was not the case with other vendor reps around the selling bay. The fact that his line was “blowing off the counter” stirred their petty jealousies. He was all the more impressed with Colin’s gracious efforts in helping him close sales, too. He assisted in wrapping items for Tim, or bringing them over to Barbie to be rung up. And he never hesitated to show products to new shoppers if Tim was overwhelmed by others. Tim would thank him as often as he could. Colin would smile and remind him, “Hey, one hand washes the other— you’d do the same for me.” When Friday evening finally arrived, Tim offered to take Colin out for a drink after work, or at least for coffee. “As it happens,” Colin said, “I have plans this evening. Something I rarely have, but tonight I do.” 30

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“I understand,” Tim answered, hiding his disappointment. “Can I take a rain check on that offer, though?” Colin asked. Tim perked up. “Sure. Anytime. You name it.” When a tall, handsome man in his fifties approached the counter in search of Colin, the depth of his own jealousy surprised Tim. “Colin is around here, somewhere,” he assured the man. “I’m sure he’ll be right back.” As Tim continued selling to the dwindling crowd, he also managed to check the guy out. Handsome, slim and tanned, he wore his shocks of thick, silvery hair brushed back off his face. A sense of relaxed chic permeated his style, exemplified by his rust-colored suede jacket with a lambs’ wool collar. Very Ralph Lauren. Tim had to force himself not to stare, but he was aching to know just who in hell this guy was to Colin. “Oh, Justin,” Tim heard Colin say, “you’re here already. Sorry, I was just getting some Christmas shopping done before I go.” Tim watched the man light up, all smiles. “How are you, my friend?” “I’m well, thank you. And yourself?” The warm clasp of handshakes they exchanged further perturbed Tim, even though he was in the middle of a sale. He was straining to understand the English spoken by a husband and wife from India, while eavesdropping on Colin’s 31

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conversation. “What do you say if I meet you outside by the Fiftieth Street exit, Justin. I’ve got to run down to the employee coat check and get my things.” “That’ll be fine. I’ll see you out there.” Tim had to contain the jealous quip on the end of his tongue while Colin tidied up his counter in haste. “Good night, Tim. See you tomorrow,” Colin said as he was leaving. Colin’s abrupt departure left Tim feeling hurt. Well, what did you want him to do? He was glad his customers prevented him from further speculation. But, later, while walking to the subway, he wondered if he’d waited too long in making Colin Welling aware of his keen interest in getting to know him. Who was that guy, anyway? Had Colin already embarked on a new relationship? Tim had never been given a chance. Maybe he was already too late. Confused thoughts roiled in his mind. In order to get to sleep that night, Tim promised himself he’d find a way to let Colin know how he felt. At least he’d seek the opportunity to express his interest by bringing it out in the open. He’d have to be discreet, what with working together, but if he stood back and did nothing at all, he surely didn’t stand a chance. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He sighed. 32

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Now that he’d decided to assert himself, he hoped his intention would provide him with just the right moment for doing so—even if Colin had already opened the door for someone else. *

*

*

Susan Waters stood beaming before the Isadora Lang counter. She shone her thousand-watt smile on Tim. “We did it, Timbo—you did it! Up twenty percent from last year. We are going to blow sales out of the water this Christmas. You did an awesome job with the free gift, kid.” “Thank you, Susan,” Tim said, all aglow. Barbie came up to the counter and doused herself in enough Isadora Lang fragrance to choke a horse. “Barbie, I’m glad you like my line, but you’re killing me in the process,” Tim joked. “You, Barbie,” Susan said with a dramatic pause, “were amazing! I cannot thank you enough for the awesome numbers you helped us pull in last week.” Barbie’s thick, Long Island accent prevailed as she spoke. “Hey, it’s something new for my customers. After twenty-six years in this business, I know who wants what—or else I tell them what they want!” Tim and Susan laughed. Barbie assured them, “Just wait ’til Christmas.” “I’m excited,” Susan said. “Fasten your seat belts, baby,” Barbie said, “’cause we are gonna fly!” 33

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Susan applauded. “I can’t wait!” Barbie noticed a lady eyeing the cosmetics counter a few feet down from Tim’s. “Ma’am,” she called, “what do you need, today? Let me help you.” And she was off to stalk her next victim. “She is amazing,” Susan said in wonderment. “I’m glad she’s on our side.” “She’s something else, all right,” Tim said with a hint of sarcasm. “What do you think I should get her for Christmas?” Susan asked. “Wine, a gift certificate, what?” Tim thought a minute. “Why don’t you get her a day at the spa upstairs? I’ll get her some champagne.” “Ooh, good idea. I think I’ll get one for myself, too.” After Susan left, Colin returned from lunch. “So,” he said to Tim, “you’re Isadora Lang’s golden boy now. That free gift, as annoying as you found it, turned out to be well worth its weight in gold.” “I admit it’s true. And I appreciate all your help, believe me.” “As I always say: one hand washes the other.” After a dearth of customers and little success with the stragglers who did go by, Tim turned to Colin. “Don’t you think now would be a good time to grab a cup of coffee? Unless Barbie has a fit.” Colin surprised Tim with his immediate agreement. “I think Barbie can probably handle us taking a break. She’s got plenty of other reps around to prop her up for the moment. 34

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Come on. I’ll buy. And I’ll let Barbie know we’re going.” “Fine, but I’m buying.” “We’ll see about that.” Colin crept over to Barbie, who was inside the vestibule ringing up her latest sale. He bent down and spoke in her ear, his voice inaudible to Tim. Barbie giggled and gave him a playful pinch on the arm. Colin straightened with a smile. “Come on,” he told Tim, “we’re out of here.” Outside, Colin tucked a velvet-lined, satin paisley scarf into his dark cashmere coat, and smoothed down the lapels. As he tugged a set of nut-brown leather gloves on, he glanced over at Tim. “Where’re your scarf and gloves?” Tim dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his overcoat. “Oh, who knows. Couldn’t find them, and I didn’t want to be late for class this morning.” Colin straightened the hat on his head. “You lose forty per cent of your body heat out your head, you know?” Tim flipped his collar up around his neck. “I’ve heard that. Not sure I could pull off a fedora, though. Not to say it doesn’t look great on you. Actually, it looks like you were made for each other.” “I’m not quite sure how to take that.” “In a good way. It’s a compliment. You’re a fashion plate.” “One needn’t be a ‘fashion plate’ to keep out the cold, you know?” “I know. But, I’ve got a pretty thick head of hair, here, in 35

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case you haven’t noticed.” When Colin said, “I’ve noticed,” without glancing over, Tim had to fight back the surge of excitement he felt. So— Colin had checked him out after all. The bells from Saint Patrick’s Cathedral sounded a short tune announcing the hour of three. Between the cold and noise of the traffic, conversing was nearly impossible, so the two men walked briskly across Fifth Avenue. Tim had to fight back the inclination to slide his arm through Colin’s. Even in the forty-five degree weather, his skin flushed with the heat of desire for bodily contact with the impeccable man walking beside him. *

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Tim was certain that for the countless times he’d drunk cappuccino, it had never tasted as delicious as it did this very moment. Of course, between his surroundings and his company, all his senses were heightened. He held the china cup to his lips and sipped hot espresso topped with foamy, steamed milk. The heat made him imagine swathing his lips oh-so-lightly over Colin’s chiseled cheekbones, bringing them down to reach his rosy mouth. Tim tore his eyes away and turned his head to look out the window at the skaters in Rockefeller Center. In forcing control over his thoughts, he heaved a great sigh. “Is that relaxation, or are you just plain bored?” Colin asked. Tim whipped his head around. Colin’s bright, crystal blue 36

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eyes pierced him with their gaze. “Are you kidding—bored?” Tim asked. “Not bored at all! I love sitting here with you.” A smile softened Colin’s sharp features. Tim marveled at his even, white teeth. “Well, that’s reassuring,” Colin said. “Being an older guy, I just want to make sure I’m not, you know, being tedious for you or anything.” “An older guy! Come on, you’re not much older than I am.” “I believe I am.” “How old are you—thirty-four? Thirty-five?” “Sure, I can be, if that’s what the shoot calls for. But, alas, I cannot tell a lie. I’m afraid I hit the big four-o last birthday.” “Really? Wow. Who cares! You look great.” Colin turned a pensive gaze outside the window where skaters of all ages and levels of proficiency glided around the ice. “I used to think Martin was so much older than me, when we first started seeing each other. But, after a while, I didn’t see the age difference anymore. I just saw him.” “How much older was he?” “Twenty-one years. He died just before his sixty-first birthday.” This was the first time Colin had ever mentioned his former lover. Tim was unsure exactly how to respond. “I’m sorry,” he said with quiet respect. “Oh, thank you.” Colin continued gazing out the window. 37

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“One of our first dates, we went skating here together.” “That must’ve been fun.” “It was. After that, we made sure we went at least once a year. I’m not the world’s greatest skater, mind you. Martin was actually much better than I.” “I’m not a great skater, either,” Tim said. Then he added, “But it’d be fun to do anyway.” “I’d think, as a dancer, you’d catch on pretty fast.” Tim shrugged. “I’m good at dancing, but that doesn’t mean I’m talented in other activities. I guess if I spent enough time doing it, I’d get better. Although, lately, I’m so tired from classes and this job, I just veg out at home.” “We all need time to recuperate.” “Uh-huh.” He paused, then said, “You know, a good massage really helps with that. My poor, aching muscles…” Colin smiled. After a moment, he said, “I’d really like to see you dance sometime.” Tim perked up. “I’ll be doing a graduate recital in March. With my own choreography. I put together a nice group of dancers, plus I perform solo. I’d love to have you come, if you want.” He got a rush when Colin said, “That sounds great. I’d like that.” “I’ll keep you posted,” Tim said with little nod. He had to contain the overwhelming ecstasy he felt from Colin’s interest in him and his dancing. Since they were being more open with each other, he thought it a good time to bring up the man Colin had gone out with. 38

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“By the way,” Tim mentioned, “did you enjoy your date last night?” Colin gave him a blank stare. “My date?” “That handsome, older gentleman who picked you up at Bartons.” Colin grinned. “That’s funny. No, Justin and I didn’t go on a date. As a matter of fact, he’s a very straight man, happily married, with grandchildren.” “Oh! Sorry, I just assumed—” “He’s also Martin’s brother. We had to discuss some details from his estate.” “Oh, I see.” Colin cast a tender look toward Tim. “I don’t ‘date,’ really,” he said. “I tend to meet someone and know right away if we’d work out together. I don’t hang around too long if it doesn’t look like a relationship is possible. What’s the point—you know?” Tim swallowed and nodded. Since Colin was hanging around him at the moment that must mean the two of them had a chance together. Right? He wanted to scream with excitement as he imagined his fantasies of love with Colin becoming real. Instead, he smiled, took a deep breath, and drained his cappuccino. *

*

*

The windows inside the studio fogged with steam from the sweat of hard-working bodies. 39

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While the thermostat outside read forty-six degrees, the temperature inside had been pumped up to seventy-eight, helping students stay warm to prevent injury. As the ballet class progressed, the dancers’ body temperatures rose substantially, increasing the heat level. And, now, at the end of class, with their muscles and joints fully lubricated, the students were sweating in the glory of performing at their optimal level, turning and making great leaps across the studio floor in time with the pianist. Tim mopped his brow with a forearm and watched the two girls in line before him dance the combination. He stood poised to follow, mouthing the steps as they moved. “Tombé, pas de bourré, glissade, pas de chat…” He pointed his right foot forward and extended his right arm out to the side, his left arm straight out in front of him. He glanced at the boy just behind his left shoulder, who nodded that he was ready to go as soon as the girls finished. When the girls leaped their last saut de basque, Tim and his partner were off, executing the identical string of steps with intensity and exuberance. At the pinnacle of the combination, in the midst of his great leap, Tim caught sight of himself in the mirror. Time seemed to stand still as he checked out his form in the reflection. His trained eye sought the placement of his arms extending from the short sleeves of his white top. He scrutinized the extension of his smooth, powerful leg muscles outlined by tight, black dance pants. He was satisfied to see his legs shoot out to either side in the perfect split that 40

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suspended him in mid-air. There was no conscious thought involved in pulling his abs in when he prepared to land, only visceral intention. In a matter of seconds, he touched down in a smooth, controlled manner. His landing was so perfectly executed, as a matter of fact, that he tossed in an extra step at the last second—a cabriole, the beating of one ankle to the other and back. It was an impressive move only a virtuoso could pull off. The teacher, retired principal ballerina Georgette Sinclair, noticed. “Very nice, Timothy, very nice,” she called out as he exited the dance area. Tim gave a humble nod while his chest heaved from the exertion. Once the last set of students had completed the combination, Miss Georgette clapped her hands together and announced, “Great class, everybody, thank you. Come on, let’s do bows.” The students gathered in no particular formation other than staggering around each other to view themselves in the mirror. They followed along and kept in time with Georgette Sinclair’s cadence of steps, familiar from repetition at the end of each and every class. When they rose from their final bow, teacher and students alike broke into applause, the traditional note that signified class was over. While Tim’s class retrieved their dance bags from around the studio floor, the next class came crowding through the doorway. 41

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Tim was hoisting his bag up to his shoulder when he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, you. Y’all don’t call, you don’t write.” He knew that Tennessee twang belonged to Lenny Ulster before he turned. Sure enough, there stood Lenny, gorgeous with that straight, pitch-black hair of his and those hazel eyes. “Hey, Lenny. In for the next class?” “Obviously. What, you not talking to me no more?” “Why would you say that? I just asked you if you were here for the next class.” “Course I am. I’m here on scholarship now.” “Good for you.” “You still at NYU?” “Yup. I come here Tuesdays and Thursdays, though. I graduate this spring.” “Graduate—finally!” Lenny slid his bag down to the floor in a coy, suggestive manner. “Maybe you’ll have some time for me after that.” Tim tried to wriggle out of having to reject Lenny yet again. “You need more time than I could ever give you, Lenny. You know me—always too busy to just enjoy somebody’s company.” Lenny pouted. “I didn’t mean that when I said it. That was a long time ago. I’ve changed, you know?” Tim gave him a long, hard look. He decided that probably wasn’t the case, but didn’t want to say so in the middle of the dance studio. “That’s good, Lenny. I’ll catch you around sometime.” 42

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“I certainly hope so. You know where to find me.” Tim smiled and turned to leave. “Great buns,” Lenny said. “You have got the greatest buns.” Then he lowered his voice. “Especially in the raw.” Tim started to respond, but thought better of it when he glanced at the clock over the door. “Shit,” he mumbled, “I’m going to be late, again.” He pushed against incoming dancers and rushed down the hall to the showers. *

*

*

When Tim dashed through Bartons’ employee entrance and onto the selling floor, he found himself caught in a throng of Christmas shoppers. Enmeshed in the full swing of the holiday tradition, droves of people were swarming through the fragrance and cosmetics department in search of just the right thing, for just the right person. He gritted his teeth in annoyance at having to move at such a slow pace. He cursed the commercialism responsible for driving people like cattle into the retail realm. He realized his own hypocrisy, of course, since his bills were paid due to vendors’ mass marketing efforts. But that did little to alleviate his frustration at the moment, in trying to make his way to his counter. Once he made it through what seemed a mass exodus of bodies, he found Barbie manning his Isadora Lang counter. “Thank gawd you’re finally here,” she whined. “We’re selling out the ying-yang!” 43

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“I’m here, I’m here,” he assured her. He took over the counter, setting Barbie free to inter-sell. He wasted no time in helping three ladies examine the Lang products from holiday gift sets laid out on the counter top. He barely managed to greet Colin, who was also engaged in juggling several customers at his own crowded counter. A young German lady with pixie-short red hair had been brought in to work with Colin. The John Divine line was so busy during holidays that a full-time free-lancer was needed, in addition to occasional part-time free-lancers who were stationed outside the counter. Helga was fast and courteous in helping Colin and Barbie wrap products for customers who requested it, and made plenty of sales on her own. A couple of minutes after Tim had arrived, Helga’s hyper-active efficiency afforded Colin the opportunity to speak with Tim. “So,” Colin asked in a professorial voice, “did you wear your hat and gloves, today?” “Uh, no, but I finally found my scarf,” Tim answered. “Well, that’s a start, I suppose.” Too busy to further discuss the topic of Tim’s winter accessories, the two men got back to work, cranking out sales for the duration of the lunch rush. Three in the afternoon provided the usual lull in business for most of the fragrance and cosmetics department. Tim took the time to ask Colin about his plans for Christmas. “I’ll spend them with my mother in Greenwich,” he answered. “That sounds nice. You do it every year?” 44

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“Mm-hmm. This is my second year without Martin, so it won’t be as—odd—as last year.” A strange twinge of both jealousy and empathy shot through Tim. At the same time that he chastised himself for being jealous of a dead man, he felt sympathy for Colin. “That must’ve been hard,” he said. Colin sighed and nodded, saying nothing more about it. “What about you? Going home to Indiana?” “It’s funny…I don’t think of Indiana as home. I think of home more as my grandparents house in Schenectady.” “Really?” “I’ve always been close with my grandmother. Much closer than my mom.” “Oh?” “Oh, yeah. My grandma’s the one who paid for my dance lessons growing up—ten years of ballet. As a matter of fact, she and my granddad helped pay for my college, too, when I entered the dance program at Indiana U.” “That was good of them.” “It sure was. You’d have to know my parents to understand. There’s no way my father would give me a dime to study dance.” “Sees it as a frivolous pursuit, does he?” “You got that right.” “Does your mother support you in it?” “Hell, no! Honestly, I don’t know where I came from. I feel like the alien that was dropped down on the wrong doorstep. On the wrong planet!” 45

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“I think we all feel that way sometimes.” “No, not like this. You want to know what she said to me when I finally came out?” “Your mother?” “Yeah. She said, ‘I think all those people are sick! They’re disgusting! They should all be put on an island and blown up!’ Nice, huh?” “Ouch! That’s cold.” “No kidding. Like I said, thank God for my grandparents. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them.” “You’re lucky.” “What about you? Did your mother freak when you came out of the closet?” “Not really, no. She and my father are eccentric enough in their own right, so they suspend judgment where I’m concerned.” “Hey, that’s lucky.” “In some ways.” All of a sudden, Barbie burst behind the selling bay, small but mighty in her entrance. Caffeinated from the double espresso she’d just sucked down, she thwarted Tim from discovering more about Colin by roaring up behind them. “All right, you bastards,” she announced in her hard but humorous fashion. “No more talking! Get selling! We have twenty thousand more to do in the next three days if I’m gonna make my sales goal!” “Slave driver,” Colin joked. Barbie gave him a sly grin and pinched his derrière. 46

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“Except for you, honey,” she purred. “You’re perfect.” *

*

*

A week or so before Christmas Day, the traditional gift giving among Bartons employees began. Bringing each other Christmas gifts served not only to express friendship and gratitude, but also helped everyone make it through the peak of the season. By now, the long hours and frantic shoppers had frazzled the nerves of the weaker employees, and were starting to fray even those of the strong. Candied apples, boxes of chocolates, caramel popcorn and other goodies filled the vestibules and drawers behind the counters. Ingesting lots of sugar served to help the staff endure the long, busy hours on their feet. And special gifts from closer friends in the department whet their appetite for the family celebrations they looked forward to—which they barely had time to prepare for, since they were busy working so much. Within the work environment, they became family, too. Three days before Christmas, Colin surprised Tim. The demands of the high volume sales required that Tim put in some major overtime. That meant missing his daily ballet class to be at Bartons as soon as the store opened. While he hated missing class, his responsibility to Isadora Lang demanded he drive sales forward until Christmas Eve. He couldn’t trust Barbie to sell his stuff if he wasn’t there, since her vendor loyalty only went so far. As a “sales ho,” she’d sell whatever she could to make a buck. And while Colin helped 47

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him out whenever he could, he had his own numbers to make. So, Tim worked at his own counter as often as he could, often from the time the store opened to the hour it closed. He knew he had to strike while the Christmas coal was hot. Three days before Christmas, Tim actually arrived early, before Bartons had even opened for business—miracle of miracles! When he came into his selling bay, he noticed a white box lying on top of his counter, tied with Barton’s signature satin ribbon. The regal purple bow was accentuated by a decorative clump of sparkly grapes. Tim opened the gold tag attached to the grapes and read: Happy Holidays, Tim! Stay warm this winter. –Colin. Tim ran the smooth ribbon through his fingertips, elated that Colin had gotten him a Christmas gift, although he had nothing to give him in return. Well, not yet. He looked up to see Colin walking down the aisle with Helga, a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. Colin made a striking figure in his wide-lapelled tux with matching maroon bow tie and cummerbund. Tim lit up at the sight of him. They just don’t make ’em like that, anymore. That’s a class act. Colin grinned when he caught sight of Tim. He sailed around the selling bay and stood beside him. “Have you opened it?” 48

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Tim beamed with excitement. “I thought I ought to wait ’til you got here.” “Well, all right, then…here I am. Go on, give the ribbon a good tug.” Tim slid the ribbon away and eased the white cover off. Within the purple tissue paper rested a pair of soft, kid gloves. When Tim lifted the gloves away, he also found a cashmere scarf. Tim pulled on each glove and held his hands up. “Very nice,” he said. Next, he removed the beige scarf with chocolate piping, fingering the Ralph Lauren tag in the bottom seam. He tossed it around his neck with a dramatic gesture and took a model’s stance. He modeled his accessories in the mirror behind him with an intentionally coy expression on his face. Colin applauded, and Helga added, “Very nice.” Then Tim blushed. “Colin,” he said, “this is too much. I mean, I haven’t gotten you anything—” “Now, we all know the true holiday spirit is not in receiving,” Colin said, “it’s all in the giving. At least, that’s what I think. Believe me: I derive far greater pleasure in giving than I do from getting.” Tim’s eyes welled with tears and he swallowed the emotion bubbling up in his throat. He clasped Colin’s right hand in his and held it. After a moment, he pulled Colin up in an affectionate hug. Colin laughed. Tim laughed, too, as he ran his gloved hands up and down Colin’s tuxedoed back. 49

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“You are too much,” Tim said in a low voice. “Just too much.” At that moment, Barbie rounded the corner to see the two men embracing. Her loud, screechy voice pierced the poignancy of the moment. “Hey, you two, do that on your own time.” But she came up and put her arms around the two of them. “Just make sure you invite me when you do, so I can watch.” She moved away with a laugh. “Look at what Colin gave me,” Tim said. He posed in imitation of a cheesy catalogue model. “Sorry, but I can’t pose in what he gave me,” she said with a giggle. “Unless you both come to my place. But I’ll warn you—you might throw up!” Tim gave her a quizzical look. “Why, what do you mean?” She blurted out, “He gave me lingerie!” Tim cast a surprised glance at Colin, who nodded in sheepish agreement. “It’s true,” Colin said. “Of course, it’s not like she didn’t take me upstairs and point out exactly what she wanted. ‘See that set, Colin?’ she said. ‘That’s what you can get me for Christmas.’” Tim chuckled. “Is that so?” Barbie shrugged. “So what? Why take chances on getting the wrong size or color. We Jewish girls are very considerate. We don’t like wasting people’s time and money, especially when it comes to presents. I like to be practical and help my pudgies out.” 50

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She reached up and patted Colin’s cheek. “You’re such a good boy.” “I guess my champagne paled in comparison,” Tim said. “Just so you know—the company gift? I told Susan what to get you!” “There’s nothing like a day at the spa,” she said. “You done good, kid.” After she walked away, Tim turned to Colin. “So, what’d she get you?” Colin smiled. “She bought me some blue chip stock options her financial advisor guaranteed were worthwhile.” “She bought you stock?” Colin nodded. “Mm-hmm. Barbie’s no fool. She has all kinds of interesting clients in her collection. Leave it to her to know how to make money.” “Nice of her to share the wealth,” Tim said, amazed. “It’s not like I haven’t paid my dues with her over the years,” Colin said dryly. “After being her vendor rep for ten years, trust me: buying me stock is the least she can do!” “How in hell much does she earn in a year?” Tim asked in amazement. Colin chuckled. “Not sure, exactly. Into the six digits. Over a hundred, it’s safe to say.” Tim’s eyes widened. “Just from selling fragrance and cosmetics?” Colin nodded. Tim cracked a goofy smile. “Who knew?” At that moment, the security guards opened the doors. As 51

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the Christmas carols filtered for the umpteenth time through the speakers, Barbie rallied the troops. She clapped her hands together as she strutted around inside the bay, exclaiming, “All right, you guys, two and a half more days—keep up the good work! Highest seller today gets a bottle of merlot!” Colin chuckled and turned to Tim, who was tucking his scarf and gloves back inside his gift box. “Barbie must have gotten a deal from Sherry-Lehman. She’s been bribing everyone with wine for the past three weeks.” “Hey, it works, right? Incites the slaves to sell. Although, you’re the one who’ll be adding it to your stash of goodies, I suspect.” “Listen, now is the time to clean up. After New Year’s it’s mighty quiet around here, until Valentine’s Day.” Tim entertained a brief image of sharing a candlelight dinner with Colin for Valentine’s Day. In his fantasy, he proclaimed his love for Colin as he stripped him of his clothes and ran his mouth over every inch of his naked body. Tim’s skin grew hot as he forced his arousal down. He spoke to Colin in a low voice. “Listen…I want to give you something, later. Just a little something—downstairs.” “Downstairs?” “A surprise. No more questions. Promise you’ll follow me later, when there’s a lull in business?” Colin narrowed his eyes, observed Tim’s earnest expression, and shrugged. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll follow you, if nothing’s going 52

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on up here.” *

*

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At around three o’clock, the usual afternoon lull nullified business at Bartons. Even during the holidays, sales took a dive after most lunch hours were officially over. Knowing it was only a temporary respite from the final rush of holiday shoppers who’d come later in the day, Tim acted in haste. “Colin,” he said, “can you come down to the stockroom with me? I want to show you that thing we talked about, and get your opinion.” “What thing? Oh, yeah, right. That ‘thing.’ Okay.” Colin smirked and turned to Helga. “I’ll be back in a minute, Helga. I’ve got to help Tim with something.” Helga raised an eyebrow. “Sure, maestro, of course. No problem.” Tim added, “Helga, you doll, could you sort of keep an eye on the Lang line, too, while I’m gone?” “Why not? I’ll just stand here and sell while the two of you are down there doing whatever it is you have to do.” Colin chuckled. Tim feigned a look of innocence. A moment later, Colin followed Tim to an unmarked door off the side of the main floor. Tim pushed it back and stepped onto the landing of the dank stairwell where it opened. The steep stairs led down to a long, dimly lit corridor with dirty beige walls. Tim descended first. Colin followed behind. “Imagine if the customers ever saw the behind-the-scenes reality,” Tim commented over his shoulder. “That’d burst their 53

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bubble about the fabulous Bartons On Fifth.” Colin laughed. “Ah, but behind the glitz and glamour, backstage is always such a letdown.” “Good point.” In the corridor, Colin hung back as Tim continued leading the way. At the end of the corridor, they turned onto a fork that broke off into labyrinthine passageways. Colin kept up as Tim turned down one of them and passed the sliding fence in front of the main stockroom. Tim glanced inside but kept right on walking. Colin nudged him from behind. “I thought we were getting something from the stockroom,” he whispered. “Near the stockroom,” Tim answered in a teasing voice. “I said I wanted to give you something downstairs near the stockroom.” “Oh, guess I missed that.” They veered off to a narrower hallway congested with stacks of cartons and boxes. Colin followed Tim, squeezing around the stacks of ceiling-high boxes, until they reached the pile at the end of the hall. When they halted, Colin glanced at the packaging labels. “Looks like Lawson over-ordered for Christmas, again,” he commented. “What—is your stuff down here, too?” Tim slipped into a space between the last stack of boxes and the cement wall at the end of the hall. Colin fell into Tim’s arms when he came around the boxes. “Oh, sorry,” he said, “I didn’t realize that was it.” “No, but I did,” Tim said. 54

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Instead of letting Colin go, he pulled him around and pushed his back up against the wall. “I happened to discover this little nook the other day, when I was searching for a shipment.” “Oh, really,” Colin said, amusement in his voice . “And…?” “Well,” Tim explained in a quiet, breathy voice, “I thought about you.” With the two men at roughly the same height, Tim reached over and grasped Colin by the lapels. Colin raised his brows and smiled. “You thought about me, did you?” “Mm-hmm. I thought how this would be the ideal spot to give you something special.” Tim spoke in a playful tone. “Nothing material seemed right, somehow. So, I decided to, uh, do something I’ve wanted to do—I mean, give you—ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. That would be four years ago, you know?” Before Colin could say anything, Tim leaned in and covered his lips with his own. Tim felt Colin’s surprise and feared he was about to protest, so his kissing grew insistent as he pressed against him with all the emotion he could conjure. He pulled away and dabbed his lips over Colin’s, again and again, expressing as fully as he could the depth of his feelings by packing as much as he could into each and every kiss. Colin remained rigid, at first, but then Tim felt his mouth soften in response. After a moment, Colin was kissing him back. Tim sensed Colin’s lips growing hotter with desire and 55

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he felt him press his chest against him. He kissed Tim with greater urgency. Both men’s mouths explored every centimeter of the other’s. Tim ran his tongue over Colin’s lips until he had Colin groaning, begging for more. When Tim’s skin grew so hot he thought he might explode, he slid down to his knees. Pressing his face into Colin’s groin, he started fiddling with the buttons above his fly. Breathless, Colin whispered, “We can’t do this down here. What if somebody catches us?” “Nobody’ll catch us,” Tim promised, “I already scoped it out.” “You—‘scoped it out’?” “Well, more like I fantasized about it, Colin. I just—I don’t know, I just imagined what it would be like, I guess. Then, when you gave me that gift this morning, I wanted to make you feel amazing as soon as I could.” “Uh, well, yes, it feels amazing all right…” Colin drew his breath when Tim brought his hand up under his balls. Over his slacks, he caressed Colin’s sac and wrapped his other hand around the back of his ass. Tim felt Colin’s body heat rise as he massaged his butt cheek. “Christ,” Colin said, “that feels amazing…it’s been so long.” His breathing grew shallower, but he didn’t give all the way into his passion. “I can’t imagine, Tim, what would happen if we got snagged down here. Behind the Lawson 56

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stockpile, no less!” Tim ignored him. He took his hand out from under his balls and reached up for the top of his zipper. Colin gasped, then caught himself. “No,” he mumbled, “no, we can’t do this here.” Colin reached down and, with a firm but gentle grasp, drew Tim’s hand away from his fly. Tim looked up with a hurt expression. “You don’t want me?” “It’s not that, silly boy.” Colin spoke again as the consummate professional. “The stakes are too high down here. I’d rather wait and feel good about the whole thing. Take our time. Share in the full, unbridled pleasure of it.” He waited ’til Tim looked him in the eye. “You know what I mean?” “I do. Of course. It’s just—Colin, I want you so badly!” Tim buried his face in Colin’s crotch and thrilled at the sensation of his hard-on. Colin grabbed Tim by each arm and pulled him to a standing position. He surprised Tim by kissing him hard on the mouth. Tim grew wilder as his repressed desire threatened to unleash itself. He pressed his tongue deep inside Colin’s mouth. Prickles of heat ignited all over his body as Colin’s tongue moved against his. His thoughts melted into fire as he united with the wondrous man he’d longed for from a distance for so long. Tim felt Colin start to resist his tongue’s penetration and almost stopped, afraid he might offend him by pushing further. 57

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Just as he was about to pull away, however, Tim felt Colin take control of the kiss by shoving his tongue deeper into Tim’s mouth. Tim was surprised, but elated, by the sudden blast of passion he got from Colin. Colin suckled Tim’s tongue with fervor, and, at the same time, plunged his hands into Tim’s curls. Tim groaned out loud as the liquid heat melding their mouths stoked flames of desire throughout his cock and balls. He broke from the kiss and spoke in a breathless whisper. “Colin, I’ve got a massive hard-on. I mean, this is bad!” Colin slid his hand down to feel Tim’s erection. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “God! That feels wonderful.” He rubbed his hand over Tim’s shaft. “Oh, Tim, that is really wonderful. That’s divine.” Tim grew still in the ecstasy of Colin caressing his penis, his mouth pressed against Colin’s lips. “I’ll bet it’s beautiful,” Colin whispered. “You’ll have to find out.” The rate of Colin’s breathing increased, until he slowed down his tender rubs to a full stop. Tim sensed the fog of desire dissipating. “I want to,” Colin said, “when the time’s right.” He placed a light pat of finality against Tim’s crotch and removed his hand. He relaxed his fingers entwined in Tim’s thick curls and placed a final pat there, too, before disengaging. Resuming his composure, he stood back and slicked his hair down into place. “Timing’s everything, I guess,” Tim said. 58

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Transfixed by the style and the grace of Colin’s every gesture, Tim watched him straighten his tie, smooth down his lapels, and reach around to pull the back of his jacket into place. He concluded by patting down the maroon handkerchief peeking out from his front pocket. He looked at Tim. Tim knew his own gaze was filled with longing and shook himself free from it. Colin smiled. “Believe me, when the time is right, I want to see all of you,” Colin said. Tim felt his cheeks burn. “That can be arranged.” Colin’s gaze glittered with desire until he looked away. When he looked back, he’d drawn the personal curtain down and addressed Tim in a businesslike voice. “Do I look all right?” Tim gave him a warm, appreciative smile. “You look spectacular. As always.” Colin’s crystal blue eyes filled with glassy emotion. Tim drew in his breath at the sight of what he thought were tears. He was about to speak, when Colin spoke, instead. “That’s a lovely thing to say. Tim took a quick breath. “Here—let me.” He reached out and straightened Tim’s tie, then ran his hands down his lapels. “There. Perfect.” The two men stood in silence, looking at each other with unabashed, open admiration. Tim let out a nervous chuckle and ended their mutual, naked praise by glancing down at his shoes. When he looked up, Colin suggested he go out first to avoid suspicion, should 59

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they run into somebody coming down the hallway. “No, you go,” Tim said. “I’ve got to stand here a minute and gather myself. You know, make sure my equipment’s all in place.” “You young buck, you.” Tim reached up and ran his fingers along the square jaw of the man he so admired. Colin closed his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “You are something, Tim Wilson.” Those blue eyes beaming at Tim threatened to excite him again. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and gazed back with a loving expression. Colin squared his shoulders, too, and straightened himself to go. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll see you upstairs.” Just as he was about to leave, however, he turned back. “Oh—you might want to grab some stock to bring up. So nobody wonders why you came back empty handed.” “But I am empty-handed,” Tim said with a little laugh. Colin shot him a sly smile and departed. Tim stood alone for a moment. He calmed himself with deep inhalations and waited until his hard-on went down. While waiting, he took the time to savor the experience of finally making physical contact with the man of his dreams. Once his erection had subsided, he strolled down the hallway humming a Sting tune. On the way, he turned into the stockroom to pull something-or-other from his product line. 60

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CHAPTER 3 As usual, folks waiting for a table crowded the little bar and lounge at the Mexican Rose Restaurant. Of course, lots of bar patrons had gathered solely for the famous frozen pomegranate margaritas and the big bowl of tortilla chips served along with them. Tim was leaning on his elbows, staring down at the sparkles ingrained throughout the black granite bar. He’d sucked down half his margarita before he remembered how strong they were. A moment later, he felt the initial glow of a tequila buzz kick in. Damn, those puppies have a kick. I’d better lay back. Don’t want to be all drunk and sloppy when he gets here. 61

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His heart skipped a beat when he looked up and saw an unmistakable figure coming through the door. He watched the man in a black cashmere coat and tilby hat duck in from the cold and glance around the room. The guy always looks impeccable. Tim waved and called, “Colin! Over here.” Ever the gentleman, Colin greeted the hostess before making his way through the bustling bar to where Tim was seated. Tim felt every fiber of his being ignite with desire when Colin got close to him. The cold Colin exuded after being outside made Tim feel even warmer and fuzzier than he had at the sight of him. “Temperature dropped,” Colin said brightly. “Winter’s here, full force.” “So it is,” Tim agreed. “Just make sure you wear your scarf and gloves now,” Colin said with a wink. “Why not? I’ve got a fabulous set somebody gave me for Christmas.” Colin remained standing by Tim’s chair. He glanced around the bar as he took off his gloves and pushed them down inside his pockets. Next came his hat. He checked the bar top for cleanliness, then thought better of it. Tim reached over and took it from him. “Here,” he said, “I’ll hold it. And, here, you sit.” Before he could rise, Colin stopped him. “No, no, please. I’m the world’s best stander. You sit. I 62

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insist.” Tim complied, placing the hat on his lap. Colin opened his scarf and unbuttoned his coat in the practiced manner of a well-dressed New Yorker. When the chubby Mexican bartender with a sweet smile approached, Colin glanced at Tim’s drink. “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” he said. “What is that, by the way?” Tim laughed. “A frozen pomegranate margarita. It’s yummy. Want a taste?” “I’ll take your word for it.” After the bartender left, Colin fixed his crystalline gaze on Tim. “I can’t stay too long. Only have time for one, really. I’ve got to get to bed early. I’m leaving for Connecticut right after work tomorrow, so I can be at their Christmas Eve dinner party.” Tim quashed the sudden burn of disappointment in his belly. “All right. I understand.” Colin moved in closer to Tim and lowered his voice. “But, after this afternoon—I, I just had to see you.” Tim turned his gaze up to Colin and gave him a crooked grin. “I know. That was just so—I, I can’t even tell you—” The bartender placed a huge glass of frozen pink liquid on the bar in front of Colin. “Hay aqui, senor. Enjoy.” Tim watched Colin bend down and pull the plastic straw tip between his lips. He was entranced by his pucker, the way he sucked the margarita through the straw. The bar was noisy 63

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enough that he got away with making a low, growling noise meant for only Colin’s ears. He saw Colin suppress the urge to laugh while sipping up the slushy drink. “Delicious,” he said. “Who would ever have thought a frozen drink could be so good in the middle of winter?” “Tequila will heat you up in no time, regardless of what form it’s in.” Tim winked at Colin. “And,” he added with a seductive edge, “I could heat you up in no time, too.” “I’ll bet you could.” “You want me to?” Colin became serious. “It’s been a long time, you know, since I’ve done anything like this.” “Like what?” “Like—gotten involved with a younger man. And one from work, no less. I’m not quite sure—what I mean is, I get afraid. Is it in our best interest to pursue this? What if…” “What if what? Are you a fatalist?” “No, I’m not a fatalist.” “So, what then? What if we don’t get along? We get along fine. I don’t think that’s a problem. We’re both rational men. Plus, we’re both discreet.” Colin looked hard at Tim. “I wouldn’t even consider this if you weren’t discreet. No matter how gorgeous you are.” He sighed. “But, look, I’m a true-blue kind of guy. I was with the same man for fourteen years. I’m not a player—” “I’m not a player, either!” Colin gave him a look that said he wasn’t completely convinced. 64

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“What with all the diseases out there…” Colin added, “I mean, as I say, I was with one man for years. I have no worries about that kind of thing.” “I got checked two months ago. I’m clean, I guarantee.” “Been with anyone since?” “Nope. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He blanched. “No, wait—I didn’t mean that. What I meant, was—” “It’s all right. I know what you meant.” They relaxed and, smitten, melded into each other through their eyes. After a while, they broke from their mutual gaze to sip their drinks and glance around the busy bar. Tim chuckled. “Some drunk-ass people in here.” Colin reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Here, give me your number. I’ll call you from Greenwich.” “How long will you be gone?” “Ten days.” “Ten days!” Tim couldn’t conceal the panic in his voice. “How will we survive without you? At Bartons, I mean.” Colin smiled. “Don’t worry. You have Helga. And Barbie’s there.” “Oh, great. Yes, they’ll fill your shoes with no problem at all.” “All right, Timothy…give it to me.” Tim recited his number, and Colin punched it in. “Done.” He sipped his drink. “I’m going to have to get going, soon.” Tim jumped with the unexpected sensation of Colin’s hand 65

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sliding beneath the hat brim on his lap. A flash of desire jolted his cock and balls into an erection. A look of lust crossed Tim’s face. “Careful, or you’ll have to beat me off.” Colin chuckled and popped the hat on top of his head. “Here,” Tim said, hopping off the barstool. “I’ll walk out with you. You cabbing it?” “Walking. I’m only a few blocks away.” “I’ll walk you home, then, and cab it from there.” Tim noticed a group of office girls seated by the door watching him cross the lounge with Colin. He caught snippets of their conversation as he passed by. “Think they’re gay?” he heard the one with a cherubic face ask. He happened to glance over as the attractive brunette answered, “Oh, yeah.” He was coming around the door Colin was holding open for him when he heard one of the girls chime, “What a waste!” Just before he stepped out the door, he heard the brunette say, “For you, not for them.” A sense of pride washed over him as he realized how striking he and Colin must appear together. For the first time in my life, I want to be seen with somebody. I want the world to see us as a couple. It wasn’t just the cold air that sent a shiver through him as he strode beside Colin—it was the thrill of anticipating love. *

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Two days after Christmas, Tim was relieved to find Bartons as quiet as a mortuary. He found neither Lawson free-lancers nor bustling crowds of shoppers to thwart his movement. “Hallelujah,” he mumbled, arms spread out, “I can walk freely again.” Halfway to his counter, he decided to pay a visit to his old home base, in search of Lulu and Dagan. He backtracked and came around from behind. Just before he turned the corner, he overheard Dagan finishing up yet another story of sexual bravura. He was glad there were no customers around. One day, Dagan’s big mouth is gonna land in him trouble, when the wrong person overhears one of his stories. For the moment, however, there was only Tim, who stopped to listen to his buddy’s story before coming around the corner. “I’ll tell you what,” Dagan was saying, “I suctioned one end of that big, black dildo up against the wall and backed myself right onto it. I spread my cheeks and got down, baby, I went to town! Fucked myself good on it.” Tim heard Lulu’s voice respond with playful, grossed-out disbelief. “You did not! Tell me you are sooo lying.” “I am not lying! That’s exactly what I did.” “What did he do?” Lulu asked. “He watched. And yanked himself. It really turns guys on when I do that.” Tim readied himself with a wisecrack. As he came around the corner, he was just about to ask which “guys” got turned 67

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on watching Dagan fuck himself, when he stopped dead in his tracks. Between Dagan and Lulu stood a blond man, very California-looking. Big dimples topped the grin that lit his face the second he saw Tim. Tim’s mouth dropped at the sight of him, however, and not from glee. “Yo, home boy,” Lulu called over to Tim, “how’s it going? Did you have a good Christmas?” Tim shut his mouth and tried to shake the sudden irritation that had grabbed hold of him. “Hey, girlfriend,” he answered. “Yeah, it was great.” He reached across the counter and embraced Lulu with affection, then turned to Dagan. “How’s it shaking, buddy?” “It’s all good,” Dagan answered, clasping his hand. “So, did you end up kicking ass in sales over there?” “We smoked,” Tim answered, proud. “Burned, actually. Record sales.” “Well, of course,” the blond man said, oozing sarcasm, “we’re talking about Timothy Wilson, aren’t we?” “You two know each other?” Lulu asked. The blond shot out an answer before Tim could open his mouth. “Oh, yeah. We go way back. Don’t we, Timbo?” Tim nodded, but his voice contained an edge. “All the way back to my first gig in fragrance, at Macy’s. Which is where I thought you still worked.” “I’m a company boy now,” the blond man said. He reached a pinky up to daub at the frosted blond curl gelled into 68

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position on his forehead. “They needed me there at Christmas but, with the post-holiday budget-cuts and all, they’ve moved around their key players. I’m here full time now.” Tim couldn’t contain his surprise. “You’re Adolfo’s permanent rep at Bartons?” “Mm-hmm.” The lascivious sneer he made reminded Tim of the cartoon skunk, Pepé Le Pew, and he wanted to gag. Tim responded with strained politeness, however. “Well, there you have it,” he said, clearing his throat. He forced himself to speak with neutrality, since congeniality wasn’t forthcoming. “So…welcome, Steven. Welcome to Bartons—a great place to work.” But he avoided shaking the hand Steven started to extend and turned, instead, to go. “Got to run, guys,” he said to Lulu and Dagan before making an abrupt turn away from them. “Catch you later.” *

*

*

Tim’s heart pounded with anticipation on his way up the elevator. When Colin opened his apartment door, Tim thrust forward a bouquet of bright orange tiger lilies and yellow spider mums. “For you,” he announced. “How beautiful!” Colin buried his nose in them and ushered Tim inside. “Thank you.” “I missed you,” Tim said. 69

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“I missed you, too, cherie.” He pecked Tim with a quick kiss. With the bouquet of flowers in one hand, he opened the door to a small closet with the other. “Here,” he said, “Let me put these in the kitchen. I’ll be right back to hang up your coat.” “No, Colin, I’ve got it. I can hang up my own coat.” And he did so, draping his beloved gift from Colin around the hanger’s neck. Colin returned with the flowers arranged in a crystal vase. Tim closed the closet door. “Is that Waterford?” “It is.” “Very nice.” “Thank you.” He placed the vase on a side table. “That looks good, there, don’t you think?” “Beautiful.” “So.” He opened his arms and gestured around himself. “This is home.” Tim followed Colin into the living room and looked around. “Wow,” he remarked, “you have a fireplace. Beautiful.” He regarded his surroundings with open admiration. “Okay.” “Okay, what?” “Remind me never to have you over to my dump.” Colin laughed. He opened an ornately carved cabinet to reveal a fully stocked bar. “First things first: cocktails. What would you like to drink?” “I’ll have, let’s see…vodka. With o.j. or something like 70

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that.” “So, you want a screw.” Tim raised his eyebrows. “I was hoping for it.” Colin chuckled. “As in ‘screwdriver.’” “Oh, that,” Tim said with a flirtatious pout. Colin handed him his drink. “As I said, first things first.” “Of course.” Colin mixed himself a martini. “You know, in many ways I’m a lucky man. This was Martin’s place, which he asked me to share with him almost fifteen years ago.” He clinked his glass with Tim’s and continued talking. “Which he kindly left to me when he departed this existence. Cheers.” “Cheers,” Tim repeated. Tim sipped and eyed his elegant surroundings. He admired the fabric wallpaper and the beige molding up around the ceiling. Cherry wood bookshelves lined gold-hued walls, all backdrop to an arrangement of deco-style sofa and chairs. Lights illuminated impressionist-style oil paintings hung in ornate frames. “You are a lucky man,” Tim said. “What a great place.” “I’m grateful, believe me. And I’m glad you like it.” They sipped their drinks. “Here, have some cheese and crackers,” Colin offered. “I’d better check on dinner. Got to stir the risotto.” “Risotto? I’m impressed.” “Let’s wait ’til after you taste it and see how you feel then!” 71

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Tim bit into a slice of Stilton cheese on a water cracker and watched Colin’s lean frame head for the kitchen. He took a deep breath and relaxed in the comfort of Colin’s home. This was sheer luxury compared to his simple furnishings—secondhand furniture from his grandparents, and stuff purchased from a discount store in Queens. He crunched another cracker and went to seek out Colin. Wearing large oven mitts, Colin was pushing a bread tray back inside the oven. “Needs a few more minutes.” Tim admired how elegant Colin looked, even in casual attire. Dressed in a black turtleneck sweater with charcoal slacks and dark loafers, he reminded him of a baron or marquis, a royal personage one might see in a behind-thescenes documentary on bluebloods at home—the one night a year they actually cooked for themselves. Colin seemed quite relaxed in the kitchen, however, while Tim’s heart pumped with excitement. The thought that such a stylish man desired Timothy Wilson, a boy from the cornfields come to the big city, tickled him. Colin removed his oven mitts and lifted his martini. As he sipped, he eyed Tim over the rim. Tim leaned an elbow back against the counter and smiled at Colin. He knew the faded jeans he wore clung to his sinewy form as though they’d been made for him. And his chocolate brown sweater, the color of his eyes, clung to his finely muscled torso. He felt Colin running his eyes up and down in 72

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appreciation. “What?” he asked Colin, who continued to stare. “Just admiring your skin. You’re tan, even in winter.” “Thanks to some of my paisanos, who passed on their genes.” Colin lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to your paisanos then. They were most generous in handing out the good genes to you.” Tim drained his glass and crossed over to Colin. Colin just managed to take his glass from his mouth when Tim pressed himself up against his chest. Colin held his glass away so as not to spill the last few drops of liquor onto himself. In a low, hoarse voice of desire, Tim asked, “Why don’t you just finish that and put it down?” Colin obeyed. He turned around and placed the empty glass in the sink. Tim’s lips were against his neck while he still faced the other way. Colin’s paler skin radiated a pink flush as Tim’s lips made their way up around his jaw. When Colin managed to flip back around to face his lover, their mouths melded together, uniting them in desire. “It’s been a long time, Tim,” Colin spoke in breathy tones when he managed to pull away. “It has. I’ve wanted you for so long. Do you have any idea?” Colin let out his breath. “How long?” “Since I the first time I saw you.” Colin ran his fingers up through Tim’s thick waves and steadied his face so he could study it. “I might have wanted 73

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you from the first time we met, too, except I couldn’t let myself. I was still with Martin.” Tim leaned back in the arms Colin wrapped around his waist. “And that makes you even more desirable to me.” Colin brought his lips to Tim’s and they resumed kissing. He parted his lips to let their contact deepen, and Tim pushed his tongue in, his passion taking over. Their kissing became furious with longing before Tim pulled his mouth away. He flipped Colin around to face the sink and pressed his cock up against his ass. Colin groaned as Tim ground his erection into his slacks, seeking out his crack through the fabric. At the same time, he slid his hands up under Colin’s black turtleneck sweater and ran them over his skin. Open palms caressed Colin’s waist and stomach, until he ran his fingertips over his chest. Tim slowed his caresses and let his fingers linger over Colin’s nipples, tweaking them. As Colin’s groans intensified, Tim’s fingers squeezed harder. With one hand, Tim continued plying Colin’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He slid the other down Colin’s stomach and grabbed his groin. “Oh, that’s a nice big one you’ve got for me, there,” he said. “It’s all for you, baby. I want to give it to you.” “And I want to feel it. Oh, Colin, I want to feel you in my ass so badly.” He felt Colin’s dick grow hard and large. At that second, the blast of a shrill whistle startled them, and the lovers froze. Tim’s eyes were huge when he stepped back and looked 74

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around, frantic. Colin howled with laughter. “It’s the timer—got to check the risotto.” He gave Tim a quick kiss. “First things first.” Tim laughed. “Feed one appetite, then the other.” Colin flipped the stovetop timer to its off position. He grabbed a wooden spoon, lifted the lid, and gave the contents a stir. “Mmm, that smells good,” Tim said. “It’s going to taste even better.” *

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Colin loaded up the CD player in the living room with mellow jazz tunes. He then struck a long match and lit three chunky candles on the mantle. Tim came up from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist while he was shaking the match out. He gave him a smooch on the neck. “You are a great cook. That was so good. Thank you.” “I’m glad you liked it.” “Mmm.” “Would you like a cognac?” “I don’t know. Don’t usually drink the stuff.” “It’s an acquired taste.” “I’ll acquire it then.” Colin poured two shots of Remy XO from the big liquor cabinet into bowl-shaped snifters and handed one to Tim. “Swirl it, sniff it, and sip it,” he coached. Tim did so and let out a blissful sigh. “Hmm, smoother than I thought. Warms the insides.” 75

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Colin sat down on the sofa. Tim sat at the other end and draped his legs over Colin’s lap. While sipping his cognac, Colin ran his hands up and down Tim’s shins, letting the strains of Joe Sample’s piano lead them into quiet rapture. After a few minutes, Colin placed his cognac glass on the table beside him and slid a hand beneath one of Tim’s pant legs. He fingered the laces on Tim’s boots. “Here,” he suggested, “why don’t we take these off and get comfortable.” Tim swung his feet off Colin’s lap and onto the floor in front of him. He unlaced the boots and pulled them away. “Bring those feet back here,” Colin said. Tim brought his woolen-covered feet back to Colin’s lap. Colin massaged them, pressing his knuckles up into the arches. “Yeah,” Tim said with a groan, “right there. That feels amazing.” He lowered himself back against the sofa, as Colin dug in deeper, and let out gasps of pleasurable pain. “Oh,” he purred, “that hurts so good.” “Quite an arch you have there,” Colin said. He slipped one sock off, then the other, and continued pressing points of release along the bottom of Tim’s bare feet. Tim stretched his toes and pointed a foot. “Wow,” Colin said. “Look at that. Beautiful.” The top part of Tim’s pointed foot rounded up into a high arch developed by years of ballet exercises. He lay back and lifted his leg straight up, pointing it from the hip toward the 76

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ceiling. Colin ran his hand down along the outside of Tim’s thigh. “Geez, all muscle,” he said. “Like a rock.” “A pliable rock.” “Right,” Colin said with a purr. “Dancers are flexible.” The instant Tim lowered his leg, Colin slid himself down to lay against his torso. They embraced, hands running over each other’s chests and stomachs. Their mouths tasted each other and their cocks grew hard. Colin pressed his hands into the sofa, on either side of Tim’s lean body, so as not to crush him with his weight. They ground their groins together, while Tim’s hands reached up around the back of Colin’s neck. Their kisses blazed. A moment later, Tim broke away to speak. “Take off your shoes,” he ordered Colin. Colin flipped off his loafers using the toes of each opposite foot. Tim hoisted Colin’s sweater up around his armpits and struggled to get it off. He finally sat up to pull the damn thing away, over Colin’s head. As soon as the sweater had fallen to the floor, Tim snuggled his nose into the soft layer of blond fuzz covering Colin’s chest. He kissed as much of him as he could while seated under him, and ran his hands up and down his ribs in sweet caress. He felt Colin shiver in ecstasy. Tim let him reach down and pull off his own sweater, leaning down to help him maneuver away the last of it. He lifted his head with dramatic flair and grinned, looking hard into Colin’s eyes. Colin ran his hands over Tim’s muscled 77

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arms and dropped his gaze to study his chiseled pectorals. He admired, too, his defined abdominal muscles. “What a body! There’s nothing like a dancer’s body. Especially at the ripe age of twenty-five.” He shook his head. “I’m trying not to feel like an old man, here.” “Stop!” Tim said. “You’re in great shape. Not an ounce of fat.” “I try.” Tim grabbed him in a bear hug. “I think you’re perfect!” He covered his neck with kisses, and Colin moaned in appreciation. With both of them still on their knees, Tim took hold of Colin’s belt buckle. Colin writhed in anticipation of his lover’s touch. Tim unlatched the black leather, unzipped Colin’s fly, and pulled the slacks back at the waistline. He eased them over Colin’s hips until they fell around his knees, then slid his hand down to cup Colin’s scrotum through his underwear. Colin gasped and became still. Tim caressed his lover’s sac, ecstatic to touch the most vulnerable part of his fantasy man. The depth of his emotion threatened to unnerve him; he wanted to show Colin all the love and respect he felt. But it’s not love and respect coursing through my blood, right now. It’s passion. The pure, unadulterated need to fuck and get fucked, and become one with the most amazing man I’ve ever met. It’s like dance. Just put the feeling in your movements. He brought his palm down over Colin’s shaft and held it 78

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firmly, but with tenderness, through the cotton fabric. He felt Colin shiver again as he caressed him. After a moment, he slipped both hands into the waistline of Colin’s black Armanis and eased them away. Colin’s groans intensified when his underwear went the way of his slacks, down around his knees. Tim closed his palm around the substantial girth of Colin’s unveiled cock and let out a groan of his own. Without removing his hand, he rocked back to sit on his heels and take a good look at it. “Wow, you have some fantastic thing there, Colin.” Colin uttered a “Thank you,” at the same time that Tim brought his mouth down over it. Hearing Colin moan fueled Tim’s desire to bring him ultimate pleasure. He wrapped his lips around Colin’s penis head. He felt the head pulse as he started to blow him. Colin’s hard, hot flesh produced a warm, tingling sensation in Tim’s mouth, and as Tim sucked it in, he imagined it penetrating his ass. He slid his mouth up and down over it, drawing it in toward the back of his throat. “Tim,” Colin gasped, “you’re making me crazy!” Tim eased his mouth away and kissed his way up Colin’s torso to kneel face-to-face. “Well, we don’t want that to happen just yet, do we?” Colin answered with a kiss and Tim’s own cock shot up higher. Tim fought to keep himself from attacking Colin with the animal ferocity sizzling his insides. He startled Colin with a sudden leap off the sofa. “Let me 79

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get these off. I’m starting to chafe.” Colin sat back and watched Tim unzip his fly. Enthralled, he kept his eyes on him while he slid his jeans all the way down, taking the underwear with them. Once the jeans hit the floor, Tim stepped out of them and punted them to the side. He stood naked and looked unabashed at his lover. Colin’s breath caught as his eyes traced Tim’s form. Tim knew that each of his muscles had been developed in harmonious proportion to the other. He’d disciplined himself with years of rigorous ballet training to make his body strong and supple enough to respond to the demands of choreography. And his sculpted musculature made a visual impact that had garnered him many admirers over the years. From the look on Colin’s face, Tim was certain he, too, had a great appreciation for Tim’s evolution as a dancer. “So gorgeous…your body is just stupendous. And, that,” Colin said, spellbound. “That is…extraordinary.” Tim chuckled. “Well, thank you, love.” “God, you’re beautiful.” “Well, my body’s my art. My instrument.” “Then you must be a great artist.” Tim laughed. “I hope I can rise to the occasion of such a compliment.” “Looks like you’re doing just fine,” Colin teased. “Here,” Tim said, “ a little preview.” He took a ballet stance on the floor while Colin watched. Tim turned in profile and extended his left leg behind him, pointing that foot on the floor in tendu. With his right arm 80

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extended long before him, he pulled in his abdominal muscles and held his chest up high, reaching his left arm out to the side. He focused his eyes ahead and lifted his left leg from tendu to a one hundred forty-five degree angle behind him, in arabesque. He continued reaching his torso forward until he was leaning over, balanced on a powerful standing leg. While moving into this position, he told Colin, “This is called plongé.” “I have a vague recollection of that from ballet class, eons ago,” Colin said. Tim concentrated on lifting his rear leg even higher. Every muscle in his body exerted itself to hold that pose. He stretched his arms out in front and to the side, while his leg extended behind him in a straight line, toes pointed as he raised it up beyond a ninety-degree angle. “That takes some discipline,” Colin said. “Not to mention strength.” He watched in obvious awe. “Magnificent! I have got to see you dance sometime.” Tim lowered his leg with perfect grace and stretched it out in front of him, pointing it down on the floor. He then lowered his torso until his stomach rested against his thigh. After holding that position, he rolled back up, stood, and spun around in a double pirouette. Colin laughed and applauded. “Bravo! Encore, encore!” Tim took a bow. “You’ll see me dance in March, remember? At the NYU recital.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I admire how hard you 81

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work, and how easy you make it look.” “Yeah, well, that’s part of the job.” Tim’s voice trailed off. He looked at Colin and assumed an animalistic expression. “Talk about hard. Look at this.” He strode toward Colin. As soon as Tim got close enough, Colin grabbed his cock. Tim arched up and back while Colin stroked it. A moment later, Tim turned a brazen expression on him. “Do you want to fuck this beautiful body?” Colin’s breathing quickened. “Oh, yes,” he whispered. Colin rose from the sofa, Tim’s erection in his hand, and said, “Let’s go to the bedroom.” *

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Milky trails of moonlight slipped through thin cracks left by Colin’s hasty closing of the drapes. The candles Tim carried in from the living room had been placed upon a chest of drawers. Their light cast a golden glow over the arena of the bedroom. When Tim crawled on all fours into the bed, Colin was right behind him. Tim felt Colin lean on top of him and reach beneath him. Balanced over his back, Colin pressed the palm of one hand against Tim’s marbled chest and caressed his ass with the other. He detoured from his long, languorous petting only to reach under Tim’s pelvis, where he wrapped his hand around his cock. As Colin plied his lover’s dick, his own “Aahs” blended with the moans he coaxed from Tim. 82

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Tim’s skin flushed hotter the more Colin stroked his shaft. But his temperature skyrocketed when Colin let go and reached back around to pet his hairless balls. “Soft,” Colin murmured. “You like my Brazilian?” “Yes. But I’d like you any which way.” He rotated his hips against Tim’s behind, and stroked his arms, legs, back and belly. Tim basked in his caresses. Colin held Tim by the waist to steady him as he rubbed the head of his cock inside the crack of his ass. Their taut, slim bodies gyrated together with greater intensity. Tim lifted his ass up and back to help part his cheeks while Colin swathed his member around Tim’s exposed flesh. Their hips rotated wilder and faster, their hot flesh fusing together in frenetic harmony. Tim cried out with desire. “Put it in me,” he begged. “I want you to fuck me!” “I want it, too,” Colin whispered. “I’m taking my time, it’s been so long—” “All right, take your time. I just want you to fuck me so bad, Colin! I need to feel you inside me.” Colin reached his head down and ran his tongue around Tim’s asshole. He pressed the tip in as far as he could, then pulled it out, repeating the flicking movement over and over, while Tim’s groans intensified. “Yes,” Tim mumbled, “yes, yes, yes.” Colin’s mouth came away. He pushed his middle finger inside, past the tight opening, until it glided in and out with 83

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greater ease. After a moment, Colin asked in a thick voice, “Do you want something to help me inside?” “If it’s right here, fine. Otherwise, fill me up without it.” Colin was up in flash. He pulled a tube of lubricant from the bedside table drawer and brought it back to Tim. Tim turned and sat up, one leg bent in with the heel by his crotch, the other leg stretched out to the side. Holding the tube in one hand, Colin brought his mouth down over Tim’s protruding rod and pumped up and down. He ran his tongue tip around the ridge beneath the head. Tim savored the sensation of Colin’s tongue flicking the hole at the top of his penis. The next time Colin engulfed the knob with his mouth, he slid his finger up Tim’s butt. Tim gasped from the pleasure of getting sucked and fingerfucked at the same time. He panted and moaned until he felt Colin ease both his mouth and finger away. Colin unscrewed the top of the KY tube. Spreading his legs, Tim lay back to watch Colin. Colin squeezed gel onto his fingers and slid the middle one up inside Tim, encountering no resistance. Tim looked into Colin’s eyes and smiled. In another moment, both Colin’s index and middle fingers were parting the tight sphincter at Tim’s anal opening. Colin opened his fingers inside to stretch Tim’s channel. “Are you ready for me?” he asked while plying him. He placed a kiss on Tim’s flat abs. Agile enough that he could sit up while keeping his legs spread, Tim bent forward and gave Colin a kiss. 84

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“Yes,” he uttered, giving up the kiss. “Give me your big one, baby. Put it inside me.” Colin slipped his fingers out. Well past the need to speak, Tim was frenzied in his desire to feel his asshole parted by Colin’s throbbing cock. He flipped over to his hands and knees, while Colin slathered his penis with the jelly. Tim taunted Colin by lolling his ass playfully around the air. When Colin had himself slick with lubricant, he coated Tim’s anal rim with the extra from his hand. Like a great cat, Tim writhed on all fours, begging entry from behind. He held his breath when Colin knelt behind him, parted his ass cheeks and guided the tip of his dick into his opening. As soon as Tim felt Colin’s hot flesh against his own, his fervor increased and he grew almost unbearably hot. As Colin pushed into him, he lowered his chest toward the bed, keeping his buttocks cocked up and back. Colin eased more of his shaft inside Tim, well past the tight grip at the edge of his hole. Tim’s amazing muscle control included this area, too. When he made a point of relaxing it, Colin broke entry with relative ease and pushed the full bulb of his head inside. The start of the fuck was a relief. Tim let out an “Aaah!” “Am I hurting you?” “No! Keep pushing. I’m open for you, baby.” Tim thrilled to the sensation of his handsome lover sliding his cock farther and deeper inside him. Colin sweated as he worked his cock with gentle pulses in and out of Tim’s rearend. He kept pace with Tim’s undulations, matching the length 85

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of his strokes with the rhythm of Tim’s gyrations back toward his pelvis. Their bodies rocked in perfect unison as Colin finally eased his member all the way in. Once Colin started pumping, Tim felt his balls flap with each gentle thrust. With Colin’s cock fully immersed in his hole, Tim grabbed a pillow and pulled it underneath him, lowering himself toward the mattress. Colin lowered himself, too, increasing the force of his penetration when he freed his legs from the kneeling position he’d been in. He reached down and grasped Tim’s cheeks to spread them apart while he fucked him harder. A flash of white-hot passion seared through Tim. He felt as though a pulsar had materialized in his abdomen, one that would explode out his cock as Colin thrust into him with greater abandon. Sweat poured off Tim as Colin plunged faster. At the same time, he felt Colin’s sweat trickle down and drip against his back. Tim shook with the double sense of pleasure he got from getting fucked and having his own dick aroused at the same time. As Colin plunged faster, Tim cried out from Colin’s internal stimulation of his prostate. Pre-orgasmic explosions shot through him. Colin rocked back and forth, the damp heat of his groin mingling in Tim’s wetness on its furious ride in and out of his rump. “Tim, I’m gonna explode,” he cried, “I’m gonna explode, soon!” 86

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“Good! I want to explode, too.” At the start of Colin’s release, Tim’s own climax tingled. He reached his right hand down to yank his rod, so he could get off while Colin stoked him from inside, slamming him with his own ascent. God, nothing in life matched this feeling! Nothing compared to the way Colin’s shaft united them in the most intimate way possible. Triple doses of endorphins sent electric sparks vibrating through his brain. His movements quickened and intensified around the core of his body. He howled as though lightning bolts launched inside him and forced his shaft to erupt in fire. “Now, Colin! I’m coming now!” Colin uttered an indistinguishable array of sounds as he shot inside Tim; Tim jacked himself off at the same time. The room filled with the cries of the two men engulfed in the blast of mutual orgasm. Tim felt as though he’d been transformed to pure orgasmic energy. The sensation was so intense, it seemed as though his body was dissolving into absolute light. Once Tim’s climax started to abate, he felt Colin’s movements slow, too. He heard Colin’s heavy breathing, felt his sweaty chest against his back. The animal awareness of physicality returned. Tim growled. Colin chuckled. “Is that a hint to get off?” Colin came up on his arms and disengaged himself from Tim. “I hate that part,” Tim whispered. “Me, too.” Colin caressed Tim’s ass a moment before he 87

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stretched out on his back beside him. After a moment spent catching their breath, Tim spoke. “Colin?” “Yes?” “I don’t know if we can do that every time, but if we even come close, I’ll be a happy man.” Colin’s white teeth gleamed in the candlelight. “I hear you.” He paused, then said, “You know, right now, I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time.” He rolled toward Tim and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” Tim returned the kiss. “No, thank you.” They both let out sighs of contentment. Sated and fulfilled, they snuggled against each other beneath the silken cover. And, in no time at all, they’d each entered a cocoon of sleep.

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CHAPTER 4 Oh, crap, Tim thought, the second he saw Steven saunter up the aisle toward his counter. Steven gave him a crooked grin, even though Tim’s expression exuded an obvious lack of amusement. Next to Tim, Colin was closing a sale with one of his regular customers, Mrs. Bathmore. “So, Timbo,” Steven said, “how goes it, today? Is the golden boy still flying high with sales?” “Doing quite well, Steven, thank you very much. What brings you over to this side of the department?” “You.” Tim didn’t have to glance left to sense that Colin had 89

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caught the rake’s comment. Tim bit back the bitter crack that threatened to slip out and forced himself to make nice, being at work, with so many people around. Tim kept his voice light. “So, what’s up—need help keeping your books?” “No, believe it or not, I don’t need help with anything work-related. I need you in other ways.” Tim tried not to panic when he heard Mrs. Bathmore and Colin exchange good-byes. He did not want Steven discussing their previous relationship in front of Colin—or anybody else, for that matter. “Well, that’s flattering, but I’m afraid I can’t help you there.” Steven gave Tim what he probably thought was his most endearing pout with a dash of sexiness thrown in, and stretched his arms across the counter. “You could always help me, baby. Come on, now, wasn’t I good to you?” He gave Tim a coy smile. “Who helped you out, way back when? Couldn’t you see something like that again?” Tim knew Colin was listening. He looked sideways, then back at Steven. “I hate to sound ungrateful, but times have changed. We’ve all got to move on sometime.” Steven blanched at Tim’s blow off. “That’s cold, Tim. After all I did for you.” He stepped away from Tim’s counter. “You can be callous sometimes. Really cruel.” 90

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“I’m not being cruel.” “You are.” Tim closed his eyes to contain his rising temper. Steven placed a hand on his hip and waited for Tim’s next retort. “Mmm,” he said with a flirtatious tone, obviously noticing Colin for the first time. “Excuse me for being so impolite.” When he jutted out his right hand, his diamond pinky ring dazzled. “I’m Steven Oberman, counter manager for Adolfo fragrances.” Colin shook Steven’s hand with his standard politeness and introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Colin,” Steven said. He turned back to Tim, all phony smiles and lightness. “Well, this is a cozy corner, isn’t it? The fierce looking men are over here, I tell you what!” He waved a hand through the air and snapped his fingers, pursing his lips like a sultry model. “Mm, mm, mmm! If I’d have known what was over here before, I’d have dropped by a lot sooner.” Tim let out an audible sigh. “Oh, excuse me, Mr. Wilson,” Steve said in a mocking tone. He held his hand over his heart and did his best Southern belle impression. “Am I blockin’ you from potential sales, dah-lin? Well, let me just step back an’ clear the way for payin’ customers. I know you won’t stop tryin’ ’til you’ve topped everybody else.” He directed his next statement to Colin. “And I don’t mean just in sales, if you catch my drift.” Colin said nothing, but Tim had had enough. “You know, Steven, I do need to get back to work here.” 91

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Steven resumed his normal voice without letting the attitude go. “Ooh, the brush off! Well, all right, fine, if you want it that way.” He softened his expression and lowered his voice. “But, just remember, peaches, there’s still plenty you can do for me. You just let me know where and when, and I’ll come running. Toodles.” He threw Colin a seductive look before departing. “Nice to meet you, Colin. I’ll look forward to seeing you around.” After he walked away, Tim stewed. Colin turned toward him. “Friend of yours?” Tim let out a sardonic chuckle. “Hardly. Just a low-life little jerk I went to summer dance camp with years ago.” “Aah. Back in the day.” Tim sighed. “Look, Colin, that was a long time ago. He can’t take a hint, and he’s embarrassed me before in public— like when I first started at Macy’s. It’s a long story I’d rather not get into. I can’t stand him. You’d think he’d get that after a while.” “Well,” Colin said, “either he thinks you’re playing hard to get, or he enjoys taunting you. Either way, he’s looking to get a response.” Tim shook his head with disgust. Colin watched him a minute. “So, when were you two lovers?” “It wasn’t like that at all! I wanted to move into the city years ago, and he offered to share his place with me. I worked at Macy’s and waited tables until I saved up money to get my 92

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own apartment. All in between dance classes, mind you. I worked my butt off, while he got lazier and lazier, collecting the rent from me. I—I admit, we did have a little bit of a thing. A weak moment for me.” “You don’t have to explain—” “But I do! I don’t want you to think I’m like that anymore.” Tears welled in his eyes. He whispered, “I don’t want anything to happen to us, Colin. I don’t want you to think I’d ever even consider—I mean, I care about you! I can’t stand Steven being so—so—” “Tim—Tim! It’s okay.” “I…you’re okay with all this?” Colin smiled. “He doesn’t matter anymore, right?” “Right. But—should I tell him we’re together? Are you— are you all right with that?” Colin stopped and looked at him; Tim’s guilt about his past made him suspect Colin might not want to be known as his lover. A sly smile crossed Colin’s lips. “Why don’t we have some fun with—Steven, is his name?” Tim nodded. “Let’s let him dig himself in a little more. His type always does. Then, when the opportunity presents itself, we’ll let him know we’re together. We can be discreet until then. Mind you, I’m not hiding it.” Relief washed over Tim. “I don’t want to hide anything, either. But I agree about the discretion part at work.” He sighed. “As for Steven…okay. 93

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Let him dig his own grave. He’s got no respect for anybody anyway. He’ll end up showing his true colors eventually.” Colin grinned. “That’s my boy.” “I am, you know?” Colin smiled. “Lucky me.” He paused, then said, “If I was insecure, what Steven said would have driven me up a wall. But since he means nothing to you, I’ll let it go and not let it bother me.” Tim grinned. “That’s my boy!” *

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Tim stood at the entrance of the Grand Ballroom in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel and absorbed its luxury. Lulu came up by his shoulder. “I love this place.” Tim nodded. “I love coming to this party, just to spend time here. Not that I don’t look forward to an evening with my comrades in retail.” “I hear you. I plan on steering clear of the old farts who can’t hold their liquor, though.” Tim chuckled. “Like Eunice, from accessories, who got drunk as a skunk last year.” They walked down the center floor and basked in the soft, golden light emitted by the great chandeliers overhead. Dozens of round tables in white linen with white flowers lined either side of the massive room. “So, is your man joining you tonight?” “He’ll be here, of course.” “You two gonna dance together?” 94

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“Discretion, darling. But you never know what might happen.” “No harm in having fun.” “Absolutely not.” They ambled in search of the table with their place cards. Certain associates had requested dining together, but by the time dessert rolled around, compliance with the name cards would evaporate anyway. The trend in prior years had friends exchanging seats after the entrée, making frequent trips to the open bar, and tearing up the dance floor after dessert. The voice of the one and only Dagan Lewis boomed through the ballroom. “Look—all the beautiful people are here!” Employees who knew him chuckled as he strode across the floor toward Lulu and Tim. After hugs all around, Dagan announced he was heading for the bar. “I’ll take a champagne from this nice waiter here,” Tim said. “Me, too,” Lulu agreed. They each removed a glass of bubbly from the tray the server offered. “You all can drink that cheap stuff,” Dagan called, full of himself. “I’m having a Stoli martini, straight up, thank you very much.” He sashayed away. “He looks wired tonight,” Tim said to Lulu. “I’m sure he’s been powdering his nose in the men’s room,” Lulu answered with a sly look. “Oh, great.” 95

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“Mm-hmm. Our boy’s had the spoon up there already, I’m quite sure.” Tim sighed. “That stuff makes him bounce off the walls. Why does he do it?” Lulu shrugged. “Cause he’s nuts?” They laughed and clinked their flutes together. “Here’s to alcohol,” Tim said, “my sole drug of choice.” “I’ll drink to that.” The two friends strolled around the room. They stopped here and there, chatting with associates, avoiding morsels along the way. But, eventually, the dozens of trays offering hors d’oeuvres, served by a legion of catering waiters in tuxedos, wore even the most disciplined eater down. Lulu popped a mini-crab cake in her mouth. “How is it?” Tim asked. She rolled her eyes in ecstasy. “To die for!” Tim sighed. “All right, I’ll try one. But don’t let me fill up on these.” While Tim enjoyed friendly conversation with folks from work, he couldn’t stop thinking about Colin and how it would feel to socialize with him by his side. Even though they’d agreed to maintain decorum with regard to their developing relationship, he was dying to boast that they were an item now. When a wave of newcomers appeared at the ballroom entrance, he turned in anticipation of Colin’s arrival. His face dropped when he caught sight of Steven Oberman’s blond highlights glinting beneath the chandeliers. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled to himself. He staved off sudden 96

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revulsion at the thought that Steven might be seated at his own dinner table. He nudged an elbow into Lulu’s side. “Yo, sister,” he said in a low voice, “tell me the California boy is not seated at our table.” “Huh? Who?” She glanced at where Tim was looking. “Oh, Steven. Guess again, boyfriend—’fraid so.” They watched Dagan waltz over and clasp Steven on the shoulder. The two of them flitted back toward the bar. Dagan managed to perch his martini glass against his bottom lip and drain it of content while walking. “Oh, shit, that’s trouble,” Tim lamented, “those two together.” “They’re just friends,” Lulu answered, “but they do get along great.” Tim sighed. “It was a perfect world before Steven came along.” “Oh, forget him. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Tim narrowed his eyes and said nothing. *

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Colin shrugged his shoulders to make sure his Masteloni tux aligned to his physique. He always looked forward to the company party Bartons traditionally threw after the holidays, once business had slowed down. He’d never felt nervous about any of the parties Bartons had thrown over the years, but tonight was different. With the loss of Martin, he hadn’t attended last year. And this year his involvement with a 97

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younger lover made him excited but unsure about exactly how to behave. He chuckled. I’m forty years old and feeling like a kid again. At the ballroom entrance, he scouted the gilded balconies built high up in the cavernous walls. Smiling, he lowered his eyes to drink in the scene, ground level. Through the glow the chandeliers cast over the great room, he gazed at the sparkles reflected off candles, silver place settings, and jewelry among the females. A decent crowd had gathered, happy employees with drinks in their hands, laughing and talking about holiday sales. He sighed. It’s all so right, so wonderful. I feel at home in this environment, like I belong here. He moved inside, in search of his lover *

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Tim didn’t mean to block out whatever Marta from Bacchus Colognes was yakking on about, but when he glanced over to his left, he caught sight of Colin gliding down the center of the ballroom. His skin sizzled at the sight of him, and all he could do was stare. Colin’s silver-blond hair shone beneath the lights as his blue eyes pierced the room. Their bottomless, crystalline gaze seemed to cut a path before him. His black tuxedo perfectly outlined his frame, and he’d favored a thick, silk tie instead of the traditional bow. He strutted with total self-assurance, one 98

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hand resting in the pocket of his trousers as he nodded his head in salutation to persons along the way. Lulu ambled up beside Tim and spoke in a breathy voice. “Ooh, your man looks fine, tonight.” Tim raised his eyebrows. “He certainly does. Got that Noel Coward thing going on.” “Yummy. I was thinking more George Clooney, though. If he bleached his hair blond.” Tim chuckled. “And if George sat on our side of the fence.” Colin lifted his chin in recognition when he saw Tim, but Barbie intervened. She dashed toward Colin, click-clacking across the floor like a beetle on her spindly little heels. “Oh, you fox, you,” she said. She slipped an arm through his. “Here, let’s get you some champagne.” “Barbie, my love,” Colin said. He reached down and gave her a European-style kiss, first on one cheek, then the other. “Yes, let’s have a little toast.” Tim decided to give his man a moment with his Bartons fans. After all, Colin Welling was the ever-popular rep for John Divine, known and loved by many. When he turned back toward Lulu, he found himself face to face with Steven, instead. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” Steven teased. “Do I look like I’m running? I’m standing here, enjoying a glass of champagne,” Tim answered, ready for a verbal spar. “Like a civilized human being, I might add.” “Ouch—is that a verbal slice?” 99

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“Only if you eat it.” Before Steven could make a retort, Tim checked himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that.” “You didn’t?” “No.” “So—are you calling me paranoid?” “I’m not calling you anything. You create what you are, all by yourself.” “Ooh,” Steven said in a mocking tone, “are them fightin’ words, Mr. Wilson?” Tim gave him a look of disgust. “No, Steven, they’re not fighting words. I don’t care to fight, thank you very much.” Steven softened and moved closer. So close Tim felt his breath on his neck when he spoke. “Me, too,” Steven said. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” “That’s good to hear,” Tim said with a cheery intonation. “An excellent way to be.” Tim tried to shake the smarmy vibe he got from Steven in an effort to keep it light between them. He certainly didn’t want to provoke the ugly side he’d seen in the past, when Steven had felt rejected by him and turned into the proverbial Mr. Hyde. Tim looked around for Lulu, hoping she might rescue him. Damn, there she was, blabbing away with a group of gabby girls. And where the heck did Colin go? He forced himself to remain casual while scanning the ballroom in search of his lover. Ah, there he was, laughing and listening to Barbie. In that 100

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same instant, Colin happened to glance over and make eye contact with Tim. Tim felt a surge of adrenaline shoot through him. Colin’s expression hinted at a smile. But, wait a minute—was it Tim’s imagination, or did Colin’s face just darken? Well, hello! Tim realized Steven was plastered up against his side, his arm encircling his waist. Tim grimaced. He eased himself away with as much subtlety as he could. “Will you excuse me, a minute? There’s someone I need to talk to.” Tim slipped away, hoping to disappear in the crowd. *

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As Tim moved toward the circle in which Colin was ensconced, Colin quit listening to the jubilant conversation peppered with industry jargon that was going on around him. He admired the way the younger man’s sinewy torso muscles were outlined in a skin tight, black lycra top. The silky black trousers that clung to his frame produced an “Aah” in gay men and straight women alike. Colin was as taken with his looks as much as anyone else. Gazing at Tim sent scintillating sparks of desire over every inch of his skin. But, his façade of cool confidence contained his inner blaze. As he scrutinized his lover’s fabulous body, smooth, bronze skin and perfect facial features, a hint of doubt infiltrated Colin’s self-assuredness. He wondered if he might end up feeling threatened in the future, in a relationship with 101

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Tim. How would he feel when other men came on to his younger lover, as they were bound to? Tim was just too good looking not to be noticed. Yes, but I’ve sensed what others don’t get about him. He has a heart, and he has a soul. He yearns for love. He’s just not used to one person caring about him, that’s all. And, if there’s one thing I learned from Martin, it’s that a good relationship is more about the meeting of the minds than anything else. What good’s a gorgeous body if no one touches the man inside. Tim seemed to be searching the crowd until he caught sight of Colin. The light in Tim’s eyes and his warm smile drove straight into Colin’s heart. That smile is meant for me, and only me. I’ve got to quit hedging and go all the way with this. I may as well face the facts: I’m in love with this beauty, and I’m not walking away, no matter what the future brings. Colin returned the smile, hoping Tim could see how he made him feel. Colin was vaguely aware of Barbie, ever the ringleader, tooting her own horn with anecdotes about her richest clients and the huge bucks they’d spent on gifts for their people. He watched Tim make his way toward the heart of the circle, past Dick Jasper, who nodded while sipping club soda. Colin reached out a hand to Tim. They shook and clasped each other on the shoulders. Colin wanted to embrace him, but fought the urge. And he noticed Tim did the same. “Colin! Good to see you.” 102

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“Hello, Tim. Great to see you as well.” Barbie squealed when she saw her Isadora Lang rep. “Timothy, my little squidgy!” She snatched him away from Colin and doused him with an affectionate hug. As others in the ring greeted Tim, Colin noticed Steven hovering nearby. “Hello,” he said with distant politeness. “Steven, isn’t it?” “Hi, yes,” Steven said as he offered Colin his hand. “We met the other day. When I was visiting my former partner.” “You mean Tim?” “Mm-hmm.” Colin paused before speaking. “So. How’s everything working out for you?” A lascivious smile pulled Steven’s features into a wicked expression. “There are some things nobody can equal. And when the chemistry’s right, the chemistry’s right.” “Oh—you mean at Bartons?” “I mean that man! That pretty young man and I…well, let’s just say when he remembers the good times, he’ll be putty in my hands again.” “Really?” Colin glanced over at Tim, who was listening to one of Barbie’s stories about a big-spender at Christmas. He must have felt Colin’s eyes on him because he glanced his way. When he saw Steven talking to Colin, Tim rolled his eyes. Colin raised his eyebrows. Oblivious to Colin’s interaction with Tim, Steven continued pumping up his fantasy. 103

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“Yup,” he said. “Tim and I lived together for, like, a year, when he first moved to the city.” He let out a melodramatic sigh. “I’d be willing to try again, if he could ever get over himself.” “Get over himself?” “Yeah. The wonder boy thing. Has to be the best at everything he does. It can get on your nerves after a while, that competitive edge.” He sighed. “But just look at him. He’s fucking gorgeous. Should have been a movie star.” “Mmm…he’s gorgeous all right. But without the ego, I find. Which is refreshing.” “Without the ego?” Steven guffawed with sarcasm. “How long have you known Tim Wilson?” “A while,” Colin answered. Before Steven could say anything else, Colin turned to him. “Will you excuse me a moment?” Without waiting for an answer, he made an abrupt departure. He marched over to the bar and ordered a martini, straight up. He resented Steven’s digs about Tim. This California-boy seemed to be staking his turf, acting as though his former intimacy with Tim gave him priority, and the past superseded Tim’s current state of mind. All right, old boy, don’t let this upstart unravel you. You made a decision, and here’s your first challenge. *

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Tim was laughing at one of Barbie’s ribald jokes when he 104

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saw Colin leave the group. He craned his neck and watched him by the bar. After Colin ordered a drink, Tim turned around to see Steven goggling him with a taunting smile from the other side of the circle. Tim wondered if the bastard had instigated something. When an animated conversation struck up between Barbie and Helga, Steven got caught up in the laughing it produced among the listeners. Tim took the opportunity to extricate himself from the web of giddiness and joined Colin by the bar. “So,” he asked in an upbeat voice, “you’re switching to martinis?” “I am,” Colin answered. His expression remained implacable. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Tim asked. “Yes. At least I was.” “Oh? Something happen to change that?” “No. I won’t give that annoying twerp the satisfaction.” “Oh, no…Steven.” “Yes, that obsessive little turd.” He turned and looked at Tim. His blues eyes shone with less color than usual and he seemed worried. “All right. What did he say to you?” Tim blurted. “Not much. Only that you and he had lived together, and, apparently, the chemistry between you two is quite sensational.” Tim almost burst out laughing. “Oh, God, Colin, I told you…our brief encounter was in a moment of weakness. I succumbed to his prodding a couple of times, but it’s not like 105

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we lived together. I just shared his place—got out of there as soon as I could!” “I know, I know.” “God, he’s revolting. Trouble brews whenever that monster appears.” Colin remained quiet and sipped his martini. “Look, I was greener than green when I first came to town,” Tim explained. “That was years ago! There was nothing between us then, beyond a physical interlude or two. He’s a psychopath who refuses to see the truth.” “Well, you are a beautiful man. And I’m feeling a lot older, all of a sudden.” Tim stopped and felt a burst of compassion well inside him.“Is that what this is about?” Colin sighed. “You know, I—I could really get into you, Tim. You are a beautiful man. I could get used to having you around all the time.” “Please do. That’s my dream, Colin, to be with you all the time. No one ever did it for me before, except you. It’s corny—but you’re the man of my dreams.” Colin chuckled. “You flatter me.” “I’m not kidding. I’m in love with you.” Colin stopped his martini mid-way from reaching his lips. “Really?” Tim gave him an expression that said: Give-me-a-break. They looked out over the ballroom to see people moving toward the dinner tables. “Well?” Tim said. “You know how often I say that?” 106

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“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.” “Once before, in my whole life. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Colin’s fathomless blue eyes glittered with elation. “Hey—am I alone, here?” Tim asked. “I mean, do you think it’s at least possible you could grow to love me?” Colin smiled. “If I could hold you right here, right now, I would. I’m crazy for you, Timothy Wilson. And…I do love you.” Tim fought to keep the emotion surging inside him from showing with so many people around. “Oh, God. Thank you, Colin. Thank you—dinner’s going to taste a hell of a lot better, now!” He heaved a sigh. “As for this nightmare from my past, please, let’s try and ignore him. Let’s try to let it go.” Colin drained his glass, turned and placed it on the bar. “Oh, I have. I only wish he would go, too.” “I hear you. But…can we pretend he’s not here?” “We can try, although I don’t think he’ll let us.” He glanced toward the table where his associates beckoned and nodded to them. “One day, though, little Stevie is going to learn that obsession is a lesson in futility.” “‘A lesson in futility,’” Tim repeated. “I like that.” “Do you? I just made it up.” “You’re so witty. One of the many reasons I’m crazy for you.” “Thank you. And now…” Colin straightened his lapels. “Time for dinner. I’ll see you at coffee.” 107

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They flipped into business mode. “Bon appetit,” Colin said. “Wish I was feeding it to you.” Colin smiled. “You’ll have your chance.” A blast of excitement shot up through Tim’s belly. Colin’s statement had a ring of permanence to it, a simple offer that he sensed inferred something deeper—perhaps the commitment he so longed for. His heart’s fire ignited and he fought to suppress the hard-on that sprang to life in response. As Tim approached his table, he saw Steven sit down next to Dagan, who was seated next to Lulu. Dagan, Lulu and Tim had requested seating together back in November, before Isadora Lang’s location change. Tim had been happy to share dinner with his good buddies. Of course, that was before his undesirable blast from the past had joined their counter…and their dinner table. *

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Between courses, Tim would glance over at Colin’s table to see how he was faring with Barbie and the other associates from their bay. He wouldn’t have minded dining without Colin so much, except for Steven seated beside Dagan. Tim still worried Colin might doubt his desire for a committed relationship, with Steven there as a reminder of his past indiscretions. Steve is certainly making it hard to move on gracefully. He found Steven’s very presence grating on his nerves, but fought to keep his cool. Throughout dinner, however, he found 108

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himself gritting his teeth as Steven made a show of being on top of the world, carrying on with Dagan, acting all carefree and silly. Tim knew Steven well enough to know his flirtatious behavior was an attempt to get a rise out of Tim by making him jealous. If he only knew how little I care. But, the truth was, Steven was getting under his skin—not because Tim was jealous, but because of Steven’s petty behavior. Tim prayed for ennui in place of the annoyance creeping over him. Every time Steven touched Dagan’s arm, the two of them roared with laughter. And Tim observed how Steven would check to make sure Tim was watching him. Tim refused to give him the satisfaction of open acknowledgement, however. He remained quiet as he dabbed at his chicken piccata. “Everything okay over there?” Lulu asked Tim. Tim scowled. “You know, some people just don’t get it.” “What am I supposed to get?” Lulu asked. “Not you, sweetheart. Him,” Tim said, keeping his voice low so no one else at the table would overhear. “Stevie-boy. That pain in my tuckus.” “Why? What’d he do?” Tim shook his head. “His usual. Remember I told you how obsessed he was with me years ago? “Uh-huh.” “Well, he’s not stalking me again, exactly, but he’s…he just…I don’t know. I don’t appreciate him talking to Colin about us, giving his version of the past.” 109

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“What’d he tell Colin?” “Who knows. Just being a general nuisance, that’s all. He ought to lay off the drugs. Skews his perspective on what’s real and what’s not.” Lulu swiveled around to Steven and Dagan as they snorted loud laughter over some inside joke. Tim noticed the other diners were less than amused by the giddy fellows. Lulu turned back to Tim. “If he keeps partying with Dagan, he’ll never get a grip on what’s real and what’s not. They’ve been in and out of the bathroom, like, five times already.” Tim rolled his eyes. “I wish Dagan would grow up, too, and quit sticking that shit up his nose.” He put down his fork and pushed his plate away. “I really don’t care what they do, actually, as long as Steven steers clear of Colin.” Tim didn’t realize he was glaring in Steven’s direction. Steven noticed it, however. A brazen look came onto his face. “Something wrong, my friend?” Tim almost retaliated by saying, “I’m not your friend,” but held his tongue. He sniffed the air and sipped his wine without answering. “Excuse me for living,” Steven chided. Lulu interceded before Tim could take the bait.. “Hey, Dagan,” she asked, “what’d you think of the steak?” He smacked his lips together. “Juicy, baby. Juicy as can be.” Steven repeated, “Juicy, baby, juicy,” with an exaggerated 110

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English accent. He turned toward Dagan in imitation of Mike Myers’ Austin Powers character. “Do I make you horny, baby?” Dagan burst out laughing. The other diners let out forced chuckles. Tim dabbed his napkin at either side of his mouth, rose and excused himself. He swallowed the emotion welling up inside him as he headed for the door. Steven served as a reminder of the days he longed to leave behind, when sex had been nothing more than a physical outlet, and his own minimal restraint had led him to fuck without any hint of self-respect. To think I let that guy into my world, that little dunce. When I think of how Colin treats me, compared to that—I wish I could just wash away the slimy memories with a shower! He held himself in check as he focused on making his way toward the great exit doors. *

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Colin watched Tim propel himself from his table and stride across the ballroom, out the doors and into the hallway. From the way he was walking, Colin knew he was perturbed. A moment later, Steven stood and left the room, too. Colin watched Steven follow Tim out the exit. He narrowed his eyes in thought, excused himself, and headed out after them. *

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The ornate hallways of the Waldorf Astoria lent a surreal quality to Tim’s thoughts as he glided toward the men’s room. He’d lied to himself over the years, that ballet was all he needed to fulfill his passions and not some mundane relationship with a man. Whenever anyone had tried to get close, he’d say he was married to his art. That gave him an easy out should a lover press for more, and left him free to fuck anybody he chose. And, for the drop-dead, gorgeous Timothy Wilson, getting laid on a whim had always been easy. As his thoughts surmounted, his pace slowed. He stopped by a huge palm in a glazed, oriental pot and fondled a green frond. Tears of frustration welled in his eyes. I swear, I’m on fire. On fire because he’d finally found the man who fulfilled every notion he’d ever had about “Mister Perfect.” And some diddling twinkie from his past was mucking up an easy progression. All he wanted was the chance to love the guy who had captured his heart at first glance, years ago. No longer did he want an easy out—he wanted a commitment. Pay back’s a bitch. The sarcasm in Steven Oberman’s voice roused Tim from his pity party. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “All right, Mr. Wilson,” Steven said. The glib delivery further raked against Tim’s senses. “Just what is going on with you tonight?” Tim blanched at the assumption Steven made whenever he spoke to him, as though, somehow, he had the right to know 112

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Tim’s business. The urge to turn around and choke Steven, however, dissipated with the surge of tranquility that washed over him. Tim felt a strange, sudden serenity replace his insecurities. He decided—from out of nowhere, it seemed, and all at once—to believe in his new relationship, rather than give into Steven’s negative provocations. He turned with a newfound sense of calm. “Who wants to know?” he asked. “Oh, don’t give me that shit! You know who wants to know. Why are you being so cold toward me tonight?” “I’m not being anything toward you, Steven. I just don’t get what you want from me, that’s all.” Steven stepped closer to Tim. “You know what I want. I want you. All of you. Every part of you.” Tim shrugged. “I paid you everything you said I owed you years ago—and then some. There’s nothing more I can give you.” Steven brought his face within inches of Tim’s. “That really hurts, Timothy. Like I want money from you! How about, I still care about you? How about, it hurts you won’t give me the time of day?” Tim happened to glance behind Steven’s shoulder to see Colin walking toward them. Colin stopped, looked into Tim’s eyes, and turned left. Tim’s heart leaped at the sight of his true love. He wanted to follow Colin and take him in his arms. Steven’s games were exhausting his patience; he felt almost defeated by the guy’s stubborn probing for that which he would never have— 113

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namely, Tim’s love. Couldn’t he see that? “Look, I don’t have the energy for this,” Tim said, his voice quiet. “Can you just give me break, Steven? Please?” Steven grinned and seemed to take Tim’s softening as an opportunity to make bodily contact. His began a slow caress down Tim’s chest. “I could give you a break, if you’d give me half a chance.” In a sudden gust of energy, Tim pushed Steven’s hand away and moved past him. He headed down the hallway after Colin. Behind him, he sensed he’d left Steven speechless. *

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Tim was relieved to find Colin alone, standing at the urinal. Attending to business, he glanced over his shoulder when Tim came in. “Hey,” he said. Tim stopped and stared at the glorious sight of Colin slipping his member from his fly. “Hey, you,” he said. The desire to express his love engulfed Tim. He headed straight for his man. As he nuzzled Colin’s ear, he reached down and grasped his cock. Colin let Tim guide it while he whizzed, the two of them chuckling in amusement. Just as Tim was removing his hand, however, Steven burst in. Colin turned around fast, and Tim’s sensed the intrusion had momentarily panicked him, as if they’d been caught in a compromising situation. 114

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When Colin saw Steven, he relaxed. “Steven,” he said. “You have no idea how glad I am to see it’s you.” Steven had caught sight of Tim releasing Colin’s penis. He watched with hostility as Colin finished zipping up his fly. “Is that a fact?” he asked, sneering. “I wonder if Tim feels the same way.” Tim rolled his eyes. Before he could retort, Colin spoke. “I’m sure he does. I’m sure he prefers you coming in, as opposed to one of Bartons’ homophobic security guards.” Tim laughed. Steven’s face darkened and he chewed his lower lip. Colin went over to wash his hands in one of the marble basins. Steven changed tactics. He took a step toward Colin. “So, can anybody get in on that, or what? I’d like to cop a feel, too.” He was referring to Colin while looking in Tim’s eyes. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty good on my knees in a stall.” He turned to Colin. “Just ask Tim. I’m sure he remembers.” Tim’s smile dissipated. He was about to retort, when Colin stepped away from the basin. Something in his manner quieted Tim. He watched Colin take his time smoothing a silken guest towel across his hands to dry them. Once he’d finished, Colin riveted his gaze onto Steven’s. He spoke to him with complete clarity and total authority. “That was then. Tim is with me now. We’re together. And 115

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we don’t share, I’m afraid. Sorry about that, Steve. But that’s just way it is.” Steven’s head shook in little quakes as he opened his mouth to speak, no words forthcoming. Tim beamed with pride. He gazed at Colin in open adoration. Colin looked at Tim, his smile triumphant. “It’s true,” Tim said. “That was then, and this is now. And we’re together.” Colin ran an affectionate finger down Tim’s cheek. “Right,” he said. He tossed his hand towel into an open hamper. “Well,” Steven said with a snarl, “a perfect, fairy tale ending for two perfect little fairies.” He chuckled with alacrity. “Excuse me if I don’t stick around to watch you traipse over the rainbow. I have better things to do.” He reached for his inside breast pocket and pulled out a tiny swatch of foil. He jutted his nose up in the air, stormed into a bathroom stall, and slammed the door shut. Tim and Colin looked at each other, barely able to suppress their laughter. They listened as he snorted up the powder he kept inside the foil. Tim gave Colin a kiss. Just as they parted lips, a restroom attendant came through the door. “Oh, I, uh—sorry,” he said, turning his head away in embarrassment. “Quite all right,” Colin said. He turned and faced Tim head on. “So, it’s quite straight, then?” 116

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Tim picked up on Colin’s cue. “Well, I doubt it’ll ever be straight,” he said with a laugh, “but we can try.” He reached up and adjusted the knot in his lover’s tie. “There. As straight as you’ll ever get.” “You’re right, there,” Colin said. “Well, let’s go then. Back to the fun.” Tim held the door for Colin, who thanked him. Tim followed him out. *

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The DJ was spinning “Boogie Nights.” Employees pulled out all the stops and jammed with abandon. Tim was dancing with Colin when he noticed Steven’s return from the bathroom, and saw him head for Dagan. Dagan was jerking his hips with as much sexuality as he could muster, sending Lulu into fits of laughter while she danced. When she spotted Steven all by himself, she pulled him over to dance with their group. Tiny Barbie had abandoned her stilettos and was dancing in her stocking feet with anyone she pleased. When she noticed Steven, she wiggled her way over to him and gyrated her pelvis up against his backside. Everybody laughed, including Tim and Colin. Apparently anaesthetized by the booze and drugs, Steven was a good sport about it. Swiveling his hips like Elvis, he turned around to face Barbie. When he took her hand, she let him take the lead and spin her all around the dance floor. She gushed with excitement when he pulled her in for the occasional lambada move. 117

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Colin spoke in Tim’s ear. “At least the heat’s off you.” “Thank God. Let Barbie handle him!” Colin looked into Tim’s eyes. “You want to get out of here soon?” he asked. “I’m dying to get you home.” “I’m dying to get home, too. I mean—are we going to your place?” “Of course. Home. If you’re comfortable with that.” “Are you kidding? I love your place.” The two lovers enjoyed the music’s beat, directing suggestive hip gyrations at each other. Colin leaned in and spoke in Tim’s ear again. “Would you like to make it home—your home, too? It’s an awfully big place for me, all by myself.” Tim grinned ear to ear. “You know I would.” Colin smiled. “Let’s work on that.” “If Dick Jasper wasn’t standing over there,” Tim said, “I’d plant a kiss on you right here and now.” “Decorum, darling.” “I know, I know.” “But when we get home, the decorum comes off.” “Along with everything else.” The two beautiful men danced for the duration of the party as if supported by clouds.

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SHARA BLOODSTONE

After earning a Bachelor’s Degree in French and Spanish literature, Shara Bloodstone took to the road. She toured the world as a musical theatre performer for several years before making New York City her home base. While she has always been involved in the arts, economic realities introduced her to employment in the restaurant, bar and retail industries. Her extensive travels and professional experience encompass the ridiculous to the sublime, providing her with a glorious reserve of material for use in her writing. *

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Don’t miss Private Audition, by Shara Bloodstone, available at Amber-Allure.com!

Sexy, beautiful Janessa Jergen is burned out on waitressing between her acting gigs and can’t stop wondering what she might do to further her aspiring movie career. Opportunity knocks one night when a famous Hollywood director and his movie-star girlfriend take Janessa home with them. Could fulfilling the pair’s kinky desires be the first step toward launching a film career of her own?

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