by J. P. James
I’m nervous because I’m about to play in this exclusive venue, but I’m even more nervous because of Neil’s semen. It’s dripping steadily, keeping my asshole lubed and forming a pool as I sit. Oh god, is it going to show through my pants? Is my jacket enough to cover the potential wet spot? This is an important night, and yet that’s all I can think about at the moment.
Fortunately, the piano is gorgeous and perfect, and I try to focus my attentions on that. The grand is shiny and gleaming, such a dark black when contrasted with the ivory keys. I always appreciate fine instruments because a lot of times, I’m banging away at a beater. But today, I can’t stop fidgeting. In the past, when performing in an exclusive venue, I’d feel nerves over my ability to deliver. But now, it’s anxiety mixed with a bit of excitement because of the slowly pooling spunk. Wow, this is so bad.
My eyes jump up to the bathroom sign, but I’m not exactly in a position to run off to the bathroom and clean up the creamy jizz. Not that I want to. That’s the most embarrassing admission – that actually, I like this. I squirm again, and my asshole slides against the fabric of my boxers, which are now definitely damp. I shiver at the memory of what we did together and how tender Neil was with me. How generous he was as he sucked my cock and then gave it to me so hard that I forgot I was supposed to be performing tonight.
But now, here I am. At Alexandra’s. The ballroom isn’t packed yet, but Neil said people should start arriving any minute.
I need to take care of things. I take a deep breath and get my head back in the game. Ok. I’m here to play and earn my twenty grand. Plus, I need to prove to myself that I can do this.
The piano keys are firm and cool under my fingertips. I start to play one of the easier Beethoven pieces, “Ode to Joy,” as a warm-up. The music tumbles out from beneath my fingers, but it feels all wrong. Why can’t I get this simple piece right? A first-year piano student can play this in his sleep. But not me, and not right now. My shaking fingers feel like mallets on the keys, and the piece I’m playing feels wrong for the occasion. I’m not doing anything right.
Suddenly, warm hands squeeze my shoulder. The scent of expensive aftershave surrounds me as Neil kisses the side of my neck. Oooh, I love this about him. The handsome billionaire is so sure of himself that he’s not afraid to show his affections for another man in public. Then again, this is the twenty-first century. Men love men, and it’s okay in New York.
“You’re doing great, my songbird,” he whispers just beneath my ear. “I can’t wait for everyone else to get here and listen to your incredible music.”
I resist the urge to open my mouth to ask him if he’s sure the performance is good. There’s no need. After all, the billionaire thinks I’m a kick-ass pianist and a take-no-prisoners kind of performer, so that’s who I need to be. As much as I’m falling for him, I don’t need to show him all my vulnerability yet. Would he even think I’m worth all of this trouble if he knew how insecure I am deep down?
No. I doubt it.
Masking my fear with a flashing smile in his direction, I turn my head to quickly meet his lips in a kiss. “This piano is fantastic,” I tell him quietly. “One day, I’ll have one like it.”
“Yes, you will.” He squeezes my shoulders again and gives me another kiss. “Keep being amazing. I’ll connect with you later on.”
Then he’s gone again.
Soon, the party kicks in high gear, and customers descend upon Alexandra’s in a flood. The room lights up with women in the latest designer fashions and glittering gems and jewelry. The men are bedecked in super expensive watches and tuxedos, stunning in their male beauty. Of course, no one is as handsome as Neil, and I blush at the memory.
At my apartment after we finished making love, he went back to his car to get his tuxedo. In my embarrassingly tiny bathroom, he changed into an elegant suit, making my mouth instantly water. Once he was dressed, I didn’t want him to leave. He’s just as suave as any man here, yet he just spent hours with me in my tiny hidey-hole.
Now, my lover moves through the room like a panther stalking among deer. He’s so irresistibly handsome with his dark hair, commanding presence, and flirtatious smile. And he’s all mine, at least for now.
We haven’t said anything about what we are to each other, but I feel like it’s turning into something more than just a weekend fling. If nothing else, the way he took care of me tonight speaks to that, loud and clear.
I finish up singing one of Dinah Washington’s songs and catch Neil’s eyes across the room. He’s standing with about half-a-dozen people, but he’s staring at me. His eyes burn through me, and his smiles seem like they’re meant for only me to enjoy.
A flush of heat and longing moves through my body. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever felt before. Is this what they call intense attraction? I sure hope so, because I don’t know if I could survive anything more heady.
Suddenly, I feel Neil’s presence again, his hands on my shoulders and a light kiss on my neck. “Come out to the balcony with me,” he whispers.
What’s wrong? I quickly scan him from head to toe. The guests seem like they’re having a good time, and although at first it didn’t seem like that kind of a party, people have been dropping by to leave tips for me on the piano, sliding twenty, fifty, even hundred-dollar bills under the nearly empty glass of room temperature water I’ve been drinking from all night.
“Okay, just give me a second.” I get myself together and follow Neil out to the balcony. When I meet him, he’s just at the exit of the ballroom, waiting for me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
He smiles, taking my hand. “Nope. Not a thing, my songbird.”
With a tug of his strong fingers, we’re beyond the wide, French doors and walking down marble steps toward a huge garden, rich with the scent of blooming flowers. It’s beautiful.
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” I ask again nervously, even though I’m distracted by the beauty of the evening and the way the moonlight gleams on Neil’s dark hair.
“Nothing, Songbird. You’ve been working in there for a while now, sharing yourself with all of those people. Now, I just want some time with you. I want to share you with the stars right now.” He pulls me close, his warm breath brushing over my lips while he smiles down at me. “Is that okay with you?”
“It’s absolutely okay.” The seductive darkness of his eyes pulls me in, and I can’t help but smile. Above us, the stars glitter and glow like they are our own private light show. The night feels so romantic, so dreamlike, that my heart swells with emotion, threatening to spill over and sweep me away.
Voices drift out at us from the ballroom, and then music starts. It sounds like someone just turned on a sound system to cover for me being gone. The tune is old, but it’s one that I know, and I’m so happy standing under the stars in Neil’s arms that I start to softly sing along.
“At last, my love has come along...”
He smiles, those white teeth flashing in the dimness, and then bends his head to claim my lips with his. My heart churns with love, and I wrap my arms around his massive form. But what are his true intentions? After all, I still haven’t heard an explanation about him with respect to the murder at Playing Desires. Suddenly, a thought pops into my head. Did Neil orchestrate the crime?
Immediately, I brush away the disloyal thought. There’s no way the gorgeous billionaire would do that, right? Why would someone of his stature be involved in seedy organized crime? But even as his lips move softly over mine, I can’t push away the discomfort lingering in my soul. There’s something more here, and I have to find out what it is.
11
Neil
“The half-million dollar bonus is already in your account, Neil. Thank you for your hard work.” My client sounds so happy on the phone, she’s practically chirping like a bird.
I lean back in my leather chair and smile lazily at the ceiling, allowing satisfaction to wash over me. “Thank you, Winifred. It’s been a pleasure do
ing business with you.”
“The pleasure has certainly been mine as well,” the older woman laughs, sharing my pleasure of us making big money together. “Thank you again. We’ll speak later in the week.” She hangs up with another chortle.
As always, it’s a fruitful day in New York. I lean back with a satisfied smile. It feels good to please a client. It feels even better to make money hand over fist.
Yes. Life is good.
My grin fades away, and I look down at my cell phone, palming the keys. Unbidden my thoughts drift. I wonder what Milo is up to?
Even with triumphs like this one that feed my ego and bank account, it’s hard to focus on work today. But I do focus because it’s necessary, and that’s what I’ve always done. Can’t have a successful company if I get distracted by every little thing that happens outside of my office. But Milo is no little thing.
Friday night after the concert at Alexandra’s, we went back to his place and made love all night. Yes, made love. Not sex, but love.
Hell, that was a new experience for me. I’ve only ever been interested in physical engagements before. But Milo brings out parts of me that I didn’t even know existed. We stayed in his little apartment the whole weekend, enjoying each other’s bodies while talking in bed, eating and discussing our dreams in the kitchen. Sure, there was some Netflix thrown in, and some napping on the couch, but it was insanely relaxing. It was the best weekend I’ve had in a long time.
Now, it’s Wednesday morning, and I still can’t stop thinking about the time we spent together. Hell, I can’t stop thinking about him. We have dinner plans tonight at a fancy steakhouse, and I can’t wait to see him. I even bought him a new suit just for the hell of it.
God. I sound like such a sap. I’ve never done this for a man I’ve dated, but it goes to show just how much Milo affects me.
My cell phone vibrates, and I glance down. It’s a message from Milo. He’s sent me a picture of a rose garden – an explosion of yellow, pink, and white blooms that remind me of the flowers at Alexandra’s. It had been dark that night, but we’d walked past different kinds of buds that had looked milky in the moonlight. Regardless, the powerful scent they’d given off was unforgettable.
Taking a walk through Central Park, Milo’s message says.
I smile and imagine that, like me, he’s reminiscing about Friday night at Alexandra’s. Not just about the flowers in that garden but about the intense connection that formed between us on the garden while we looked up at the stars. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and I think it was special for him too.
Picking up my phone, I respond. They’re almost as gorgeous as you.
Just as I put the phone down, the office phone rings.
“Yes, Shelly?”
“Someone’s here to see you, sir. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he refuses to leave.” Shelly’s voice is professional and cool, but after years of working together, I can plainly hear the irritation in her voice. Calling me must have been her last resort, before calling security, that is.
Frowning, I glance at my watch. I can’t think of many people with the balls to pull this kind of shit in my office.
“Who is it?”
“He calls himself Victor Lancaster.”
Of course, it would be this clown. Forcing back a sigh, I clench my jaw. “That’s all right, Shelly. Send him in. And thank you.”
Seconds later, Victor waltzes into my office. His suit seems extra shiny, and the smirk on his face tells me he’s really pleased with himself today. He shoves my office door closed like he wants it to slam. But the hydraulic door I had specially installed slips solidly closed with only a whisper of sound. Victor frowns back at the door over his shoulder before dropping his ass into the seat on the other side of my desk.
“Neil Woods. The man of the hour.” He says the last part like he’s saying it’s my fifteen minutes of fame and they’re about to be up. But he has no idea that I have more staying power than that.
“What can I do for you, Victor?” I lean back in my chair. The warmed leather conforms to my broad back and shoulders, easily taking my weight without making a sound.
He smirks again.
“Oh, you’ve already done it. You sent Don Hunt my way, and I can’t thank you enough. Working with him, the money’s rolling in faster than I can bank it or blow it.” He laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said in his life. Damn. This idiot has no idea the pile of shit he just dropped into.
“It wasn’t a favor, Victor,” I tell him, trying not to look disgusted. “I gave him your card, but I wasn’t saying you should take him up on his business offer.” My cell phone chimes with a message, and I cover it with my palm, not wanting a sleaze like Victor to see anything from Milo. “You should be careful,” I tell him with a warning growl. “Working with Don is like playing with fire – you’re sure to get burned in the end.”
Victor makes a dismissive sound and pulls out a cigar like he’s about to light up in my office. “That shit for brains couldn’t even light my stogie.” He waggles the unlit cigar at me, but he doesn’t do anything stupid like pull out an actual lighter. “He talks like some big, bad mafia dude, but his rep is all talk. Guys like that are all bark and no bite. He can’t hurt me.” At my harsh look, he shrugs and tucks the stogie back into his inside jacket pocket.
“Don’t be cocky with that guy; you’ll just get your dick chopped off.” Hopefully, for Victor’s sake, it wouldn’t be literally since he can’t possibly get any action. “Didn’t you see what went down at Playing Desires last week?” I ask.
“No,” the other man says before making a dismissive motion. “That wasn’t Don’s work. Like I said, he’s nothing but a wannabe mafia don who watches too much late night TV. He doesn’t do anything like that. Plus, that piano bar is in a shitty part of town. I’m pretty sure there are crackheads and hookers on every corner down there. Violent crime was bound to happen at that place sooner or later.”
Damn. This guy really doesn’t know this city, does he?
“Playing Desires is actually in one of the best parts of town, Victor. A lot of investors are fighting to get in over there. It’s safer than Central Park in that neighborhood.”
He harrumphs noisily.
“Shit, these days, every place in New York is safer than Central Park,” Victor scoffs. “Have you seen the news in the last ten years? Even the pussies on the Upper East Side are getting guns and hiring bodyguards just to go jogging.”
Internally, I shrug and leave Victor to his assumptions. He’s an idiot and won’t listen to anybody but himself, so there isn’t much I can do. Still, I try one last time. Victor may be a dunce, and I may not like what he stands for, but I’d feel like I wasn’t doing my job if I don’t warn him.
I tip my head at the sleazeball. “Just keep in mind what I said about Don Hunt. Don’t underestimate him or what he’s willing to do to get his way.”
He rolls his eyes at the ceiling.
“Hell, no need to be scared of this wannabe thug, Neil.” Victor gives me an amused look with a good dose of contempt thrown in. “I thought you had more balls than that.”
Why does it always come down to dicks and balls with guys like this? Well, if that’s the language he wants to use, I’ll put it to him in a way his tiny brain can grasp.
“My balls are plenty big, Victor. No need to worry about that, I assure you.”
I’m really starting to dislike this guy even more, but I want to keep things even. I don’t make enemies in this business because it’s unnecessary. Instead, being a player is all about maneuvering, strength, and being able to follow through when you make promises. It’s not about blowing smoke during pointless meetings, the way Victor’s doing right now.
Done with this pointless conversation, I stand up and fasten the single button of my suit jacket. Victor looks up at me, slightly afraid. I know I look intimidating with my wide shoulders, iron blue eyes, and stone face. I’ve looked in the mirror and in
to the eyes of scared men enough to know. But I keep my words even.
“I’m not scared of that bastard, and I’ve never been scared. I’m just smart enough not to get involved in Don Hunt’s shit. It stinks, and I don’t want it to poison my business.”
Victor scrambles to sit up so that I won’t loom over him, but even standing, he’s still a good couple of inches shorter than I am.
“If by ‘poison,’ you mean flood your pockets with millions in cold hard cash, then yeah, Hunt is poison. That’s the kind of poison I like. If you were really smart, you’d get in on some of this, too.”
This guy just doesn’t get it. “I’m telling you like I already told Don Hunt, I don’t want anything to do with dirty money. I make more than enough legitimate cash. My business model won’t change because Hunt promises a few million or billion more. I make that on my own. Daily, in fact.”
Victor sniggers a little, even as his ears pick up.
“Daily? Really? But you could make so much more with this guy. Anyway, why am I trying to convince you to work with Hunt? I’m getting all of the business you turned your back on.” He laughs and sticks his hands in his pants pockets. “Sucks to be you.”
If this motherfucker calls me stupid one more time, I’m going to bust his balls. But for now, I leave him be because time will tell. He’ll realize soon enough that he was really talking to the mirror when all those words about “stupidity” were coming out of his mouth.
“It’s been fun, Victor, but I have another appointment in a few minutes,” I say, nodding my head slightly. Stepping from behind my desk, I gesture toward the door and then crowd close so that he has no choice but to move towards the exit. With a fake smile, I step to the side and open the slab for him, politely urging him get the hell out of my office.
“Next time you want to drop by, feel free to make an appointment with my assistant.”