The Agency

by D. J. Manly

  Chase raised an eyebrow. God, he was handsome, those blue eyes contrasting with that dark wavy hair of his. He loved him so much, too damn much. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” Jordon sighed. “Tell you that I fucked one of Amanda’s ah … boy toys while she went on a business trip? It was years ago.”

  “He remembers.” Chase looked down at the carpet.

  Jordon moved closer. “Chase. I didn’t even know you. I was young, and Scott was … well … persuasive. I was just coming out of a bad situation. My former lover tried to kill me on the race track. I had just barely got the use of my legs back. I’d been in the hospital for a year. Scott was attractive. Chase,” he said, putting his hands on his arms, “I hadn’t had sex in a year! I was…”

  “It’s not that,” Chase said, shaking his head. “I can’t blame you for something that happened when I wasn’t even here. I just wish…”

  “Wish what?” he asked, taking one hand and lifting up his chin. “Wish what, baby?”

  “I wish I’d been here. I wish I’d been Scott.”

  Their eyes met and Jordon drew him into his arms. “Baby. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. There’s no one else for me. It’s not a few nights with Scott that I barely remember…” He paused, kissing his mouth tenderly. He heard Chase take an intake of breath. Jordon took his hand and placed it down inside his swim trunks. “Feel that. Feel how hard I am. You do that to me. Every time I’m near you. How could you think I’d ever want anyone else? Christ.” He closed his eyes, rearing his head back as Chase squeezed his cock in his hand. “I love you. I love you so damn much … I’d lose my mind if you stopped believing that.”

  Chase’s lips went to his throat. The other hand clutched the waistband of his trunks and pulled them down over his hips. Jordon felt his hot mouth snake down to his chest, capture one of his nipples between his teeth as the hand on his cock began to stroke it nice and slow. He began to tremble all over, a tongue dipping out to lick his lips.

  “Move to the bed,” Chase told him, his voice filled with emotion, “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you so that you remember you’re mine, Jordon.”

  His back hit the mattress, Chase’s hand still stroking his cock, which was alive in his hand. A tongue moved over one nipple, then the other. The lips moved down. Jordon pressed his head back into the mattress in anticipation. Some sound came from his lips, soft, deep. His leg was being lifted and lips captured his balls. Chase yanked him downwards, practically off the bed. Both legs now up over Chase’s strong shoulders. Dark blue eyes met his as a finger snaked up inside of him. “My beautiful Jordon,” he whispered. “My silent lover,” he smiled seductively. “I’m going to make you moan.”

  A tongue quickly replaced the finger, slithering up inside of him, moving around in a circle, then darting in and out. Jordon’s cock pulsed, his hips beginning to move up and out with an aching need. “Chase,” he moaned. “Chase, Christ…”

  Chase lifted his head, Jordon’s legs resting on his shoulders. He reached down and casually lifted his hot, dripping sex in his hand. He fondled it. “Scott was right. A beautiful cock, and right now, its aching … my love,” he whispered. “What do you want?”

  He was teasing him without mercy. Jordon laughed, his laugh mingled with a moan. “Please, I’ll be good,” he teased. “Fuck me. Come on Chase, fuck me.”

  Chase smiled, rolling on a condom he had taken from the nightstand. He clutched his hips. He ground his cock into him, inch by inch, slowly, and Jordon heard himself do something that was rare for him during sex; he cried out, “Yes, yes.” And it seemed that it was all that Chase was waiting to hear, because he drove his cock in to the hilt, and then appeared to lose all control.

  Chapter Eight

  When Scott opened his eyes, Amanda was climbing out of the swimming pool. He stifled a yawn and reached over for a folding towel that was sitting beside him and handed it to her. “Finally,” she said, removing her bathing cap and rubbing her arms and chest with the towel. She reached for the short terry robe that she usually threw over her bathing suit, and told Clarissa, who was standing by, that she wanted a Diet Coke.

  “Where is everyone?” Scott inquired, squinting at his watch. It was almost five.

  “Well, Hunter took one of the cars a few hours ago, saying he needed to pick up some items at the drugstore. I have no idea where Ramsay is. My brother and Chase took off somewhere, said they’d be back for dinner. They were in the bedroom until two o’clock.”

  “Ah, nothing like a bit of jealousy to stir the juices,” Scott laughed, glancing at the maid who had reappeared with Amanda’s Diet Coke. “Bring me a whiskey on the rocks,” he said.

  Amanda glanced at him as Clarissa went into the house to get his drink. “Okay, since we’re alone for awhile, it’s time for a talk.”

  “Amanda,” he groaned, rolling his head back and forth against the back of the chair.

  “Scott,” she said severely. “I want to know what happened between you and Ciel.”

  Clarissa came back with the drink. When she disappeared, Amanda took it out of his hands and put it aside. “Enough drinking. You’ve been drinking since you got here. I know you’re in pain. I know you. When Ciel left—when you told me you loved him, you said it was either Ciel, or the bottle. Nothing’s changed.”

  Scott put his hand to his forehead.

  “Obviously you still love him.”

  “I hate him,” Scott said between clenched teeth. “I hate him for making me love him like this.”

  Amanda gripped his forearm. “Did you walk out on him?”

  “He doesn’t love me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t think he ever did.”

  “Scott, that’s not true. I saw his face the night he left. He was a man in torment. I can’t believe he stopped loving you. What changed?”

  “There was someone else.”

  “He cheated on you?”

  “I … I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “He could have; at least, I accused him of doing just that.” He looked at Amanda.

  “Did he deny it?”

  “Of course he did. We hadn’t had sex in weeks. I wouldn’t have blamed him if … yes, I would, I would have blamed him. I wanted to kill him.”

  “Why did you stop having sex?”

  “We started fighting.”

  “About?” Amanda sipped her Coke. She took pity on Scott suddenly, and passed him his whiskey. “But no more tonight.”

  He nodded and took the glass from her hand.

  “What did you fight about? You taking your clothes off at that club? I don’t blame him really. It’s a gay strip club, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s worse. Why did you do it?”

  “I told you. We needed money and…”

  “You should have to come to me.”

  “No, Amanda. We had to make it on our own. Ciel would have never allowed that. But it wasn’t just the club.”

  “What then?” She stroked his arm.

  “His friends at the university. They were all intellectuals, talking way above my head and … there was one … he was clearly falling in love with Ciel.”

  “Darling, Ciel is gorgeous. You must have known that people would always be attracted to him. Did he sleep with this guy?”

  “I don’t know, but I accused him of doing just that.” Scott sighed. “He denied it, and then he got really distant. Amanda, it’s my fault,” he said desperately. “I just can’t bring myself to believe Ciel loves me. He said…” He swallowed.

  “Go on,” Amanda urged. “What did Ciel say?”

  “Ciel said that my insecurities would tear us apart. He said”—tears filled Scott’s eyes now…”he said that he was exhausted trying to make me believe he loved me … that he couldn’t do it anymore.” He lowered his head and cried.

  Amanda moved closer and pulled Scott into
her arms.

  “He told me we’d be better off apart, and so…” He sniffed, trying to control the tears. “I came here. I didn’t know where else to go, and…”

  She hugged him harder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, breaking away. “I’ve got to find a way to go on. I’m afraid, Amanda. I’m afraid I’ll fall into this big hole and I won’t be able to get out. I have to stop loving him, and I don’t know how.”

  Amanda wiped at his tears, her own rolling down her cheeks. “I’m here,” she said. “I’m here.” Then she drew his head against her breast and rocked him like a baby.

  * * * *

  Jordon and Chase came back around six-thirty. They both looked flushed as if they’d been running, and they spent some time horsing around in the hallway like two boys before coming into the living room where everyone else was.

  Chase shook hands with Hunter and Ramsay, and apologized for not being around during the day. Jordon nodded at them and leaned down to give his sister a kiss.

  Hunter glanced at Jordon and Chase and thought that he’d bow out of the little bet he had with Ramsay. God, they were just too cute together.

  Scott had hit a nerve earlier. Hunter was beginning to wonder if Ramsay hadn’t filled him in on stuff. Maybe he was just perceptive. He looked sad tonight, sitting there in the corner by the window, drinking what looked like club soda.

  When he noticed that the others were engrossed in conversation about current events, he got up and walked over to where Scott was sitting. “Want to go for a walk? I got something that could take away the blues.”

  Scott glanced up at him. “The blues got you too, Hunter?”

  “No, man.” He shook his head. “I’m just wanting to mellow out some.”

  Scott stood up. “Let’s go.”

  “Scott and I are going for air,” Hunter announced when Amanda paused in her conversation and glanced up at him.

  “Well, dinner is ready in a half hour. Don’t go far.”

  “No, no,” he said, motioning to Scott. He glanced at Ramsay who met his eyes for a minute, then looked away. “Fuck you,” he muttered under his breath.

  When he was outside, he began to walk fast. He didn’t realize how fast until a hand reached out and grabbed him. “Hey,” Scott said. “Slow it down, will ya? Where’s the fire?”

  He laughed some, pulling out the joint and pausing to light it. He took a drag, then passed it to Scott, who sucked some into his lungs. “Thought you could use it, man,” he said.

  “Me, or you?” Scott said.

  “You. You’re the one going through some shit.”

  “I’m always going through shit. Tell me about home.”

  “You ever been?”

  “Yeah. With Amanda once. Cayman Islands. It was heaven.”

  “Or hell, depending on your perspective,” he laughed, beginning to walk again.

  The neighborhood was silent, a plethora of enormous houses hidden by electronic gates and lush foliage. The sky was growing dark, a million stars blurred by the smog.

  “So, you came here?”

  “I left Jamaica as soon as I got out of the hospital. I didn’t even tell my mother.”

  Scott glanced at him. He took another drag of the joint and passed it to Hunter. “Hospital? What happened?”

  “I got the shit beat of me one night. It was five guys with tire irons. They busted both my knee caps. One of ’em”—he gave a short laugh…”well, I had sucked his cock the night before.”

  Scott shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you report it?”

  “Man, ever heard some of the lyrics in the popular tunes in Jamaica? Beating on fags is considered a sport there, man, and take a look at the color of my skin. I’m considered more White than Black.”

  Hunter passed the joint back. Scott shook his head. “I’ve had enough. Thanks. After you came here, did you stay with your father or…?”

  They kept walking. Hunter put out the joint. “My father,” he laughed harshly. “He’s got a whole new family. Doesn’t want the little snots to know I exist. He set me up in a penthouse in Beverly Hills for awhile.”

  “Is that when you met Ramsay?”

  Hunter stopped. He looked at Scott. “That’s off limits, okay?” After a pause, he sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

  “Why don’t you want to talk about Ramsay? It’s obvious that you’re in love with him.”

  He laughed a little too loud.

  “Hunter, you might as well tell me. I can spot a fool in love a mile away. All I have to do is look in the mirror.”

  “What’s up with that?”

  “You first.”

  “Nothing to say.”

  “Bullshit.” They stopped at a small park at the end of the road. Scott took a seat on one of the swings. Hunter sat down on the one next to him. “So, you met Ramsay when your father set you up in the penthouse.”

  Hunter nodded silently.

  “Was he working for Jacques then?”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “The penthouse had belonged to some rich fuck, I can’t recall who. He was going to be gone for six months. My father told me I had that long to get my shit together, then I had to be gone. I found the phone number for the Agency in this guy’s digs.”

  “How did you know what it was?”

  “The rich guy wrote a lot of notes in the margin beside this name … Ramsay. Stuff like … sweet, blond, fragile, submissive, big cock … and then I found pictures, naked pictures that he’d taken of him. God, I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. I wanted him, so I phoned the number, pretended to be this guy, and asked for Ramsay. Of course they wouldn’t let me speak to him but they started asking me if I wanted him for the whole weekend, and that it would be the usual fee, and blah, blah. I figured it out fast. I had no money,” he said with a laugh, “at least not that kind of money, but I told the guy on the phone yes. I wanted him for the whole weekend, and they sent him over. Said they’d put it on my tab.”

  Scott leaned back against the bench, his arms folded across his chest. “Tell me what happened next.”

  Hunter’s mind went back to the first time he had met Ramsay. Once he started to tell Scott the story, it was as if he were there again.

  He could remember being stressed right out that night when the doorbell chimed. He wondered what this guy was going to say when he saw him standing there, instead of the old fart who owned the place.

  Ramsay was more beautiful in person than in those photographs. He stood there, his hand on the doorjamb, baby fine hair falling across his forehead. His eyes opened wide when he saw Hunter. He tried to disguise the fact that he was checking him out by giving him a speedy once-over, then double-checking the number on the door, and saying, “Sorry, man, I must have made a mistake.”

  “No,” Hunter said, shaking his head. An angel. He was a sweet angel sent from heaven. He took his arm and pulled him inside. He was feeling rather foolish staring at him the way he was. “You’re okay. I was the one … I mean, I called.”

  “Where’s Mr. Thompson?” He glanced around, and then back at Hunter.

  “Ah, gone. He said I could, well, make use of ah … everything.” He met Ramsay’s eyes.

  Ramsay shrugged, then went to throw himself on the sofa. “That was nice of him.” He ran his gaze over Hunter again, this time slowly, not hiding anything. “You’re buff, man. Are you one of Thompson’s boys?”

  “Ah, no. I’m his, ah … nephew.”

  “Nephew? Shit, Tommy boy is as white as snow. You the black sheep of the family?”

  He’d apparently thought that was hilarious because he’d thrown his head back and howled with laughter.

  “His brother married a Jamaican,” Hunter muttered.

  “Yes, I detected an accent,” Ramsay said after he’d managed to stop laughing. “No offense, okay. It’s just like your uncle is so white, and conservative, except when it comes to his sexual, ah … proclivities. I
s that a word?”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “So,” he said, sitting up. “What do you like?”

  “Ah, music and…”

  “No, honey, what do you like in bed?” He met Hunter’s eyes.

  Hunter swallowed. “Well, I … everything, I guess.” He was drowning in those eyes.

  “Where do you want me?” he asked, standing up, hands on his hips.

  “Well, we can have a drink first, or…”

  Ramsay smiled. “You’re shy. That’s sweet.”

  “I’m not shy,” Hunter began, feeling his mouth go dry as Ramsay came closer.

  “I know you’re the client, and I’m here to do what you want, but I’d love to see you naked. You’re just about the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever…” He reached up and touched Hunter’s cheek.

  Hunter reached out for him and pulled him into his arms. He kissed him hotly on the mouth, the initial hesitation he felt quickly disappearing. He literally picked him up and carried him into the bedroom, dumping him on the bed. Hastily he tore off his own clothes, then switched on the light.

  The desire he saw in Ramsay’s eyes caused a moan to rise in his chest. He licked his lips and crawled onto the bed. He reached down and peeled off Ramsay’s T-shirt, then fumbled with the zip on his jeans, swearing a little when it took more effort than he expected to get those extra tight pants down over his hips. He didn’t have any underwear on, which was all the better, and when his cock came into view, Hunter paused. “Shit,” he whispered, “where were you hiding that?”

  Ramsay smiled. “Like it?”

  Did he like it? Jesus, it was just the icing on the cake. To be so fine-boned with such fragile translucent beauty, and then to have this big, thick, succulent cock between his legs seemed almost too much.

  Ramsay stretched out on the bed and lifted his arms over his head as he spread his thighs. He was posing, and Hunter just about blew his load right there. “You like?” he asked again, lifting his hips off the bed enticingly. “Tell me what you want.” He jumped up on his knees, ran his hand over his chest, playing with his nipple while the other hand slapped his cock back and forth. The way he was looking at Hunter while he was playing with himself was driving him half-crazy. Hunter reached out for Ramsay’s head and brought it roughly to his cock. “Christ,” he hissed, “suck it, beauty. Suck it.”