“Nine months is a long time,” Alex reminded him.
“And what’s your point?”
“I’m not sure we’ll last till the end of the month.”
“Dude, when I take on something, I follow through to the end.”
Zeb moved closer, and Alex was struck by the fierce look in his eyes. They were dark pools of determination, which was crazy because a few minutes ago Zeb was wavering and emotional. This was the other side of Zeb he hadn’t met yet. The determined overachiever, who despite his reluctance to pursue a career in architecture had accepted his father’s decision and doggedly chased down the grade point average he needed to gain entry to an Ivy League college. Alex didn’t doubt Zeb’s determination. He would become a formidable ally if their relationship could overcome these initial hurdles.
Without saying another word, Zeb tugged on Alex’s collar and pulled him down for a kiss. It was a little tentative at first, but the spark that had started last night, and carried through until the wee hours, was rekindled. The big difference between then and now was the level of arousal. A few hours ago, Zeb had settled for kissing. Now that he’d shared some of his concerns, Alex realized Zeb had been waiting for the frank conversation about his status before allowing himself to go past first base. In this sense, he was endearingly old-fashioned, which made Alex fall a little harder.
The go signal in Zeb’s brain was propelling an almost feverish urgency. He was grinding against Alex while moaning into his mouth. Addressing the immediate problem, Alex reached for Zeb’s fly and drew down the zipper.
“Do you like this?” Alex asked, curling his fingers around Zeb’s straining cock.
Zeb whimpered against Alex’s ear. His needy reaction set Alex ablaze. He began stroking him slowly.
“Oh God,” Zeb breathed.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Can you….”
“Finish you off?” Alex answered.
Zeb thrust into Alex’s hand then just as quickly pulled back. “If you think it’s too soon, I can wait,” he said generously.
“Oh, sugar,” Alex said in a low chuckle. “You’re about to burst.”
They repositioned, and now Zeb was lying on the floor, arching his hips invitingly as Alex continued stroking him. Ignoring his own decision to take things slowly, Alex bent down and licked the tip of Zeb’s cook, lapping up the drops of precum and loving the shocked gasp that escaped Zeb’s throat. He’d sucked in the engorged head when Zeb suddenly pushed him away.
“Wait a second,” he said desperately.
“Why?”
“I want you to come as well,” Zeb replied.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“But it’s not fair,” he whined.
“This is enough for me right now.”
“But Alex….”
“Hush up,” Alex whispered. “Let me take care of you.”
Zeb stopped arguing when Alex sucked him down almost to the root. Surprisingly, he didn’t come in a few seconds, as Alex had expected, but lasted over five minutes. Long enough for Alex to appreciate Zeb’s intrinsic good manners. Despite his level of arousal, Zeb wasn’t aggressive, and he let Alex set the pace. It gave him time to savor Zeb’s particular taste and smell, and he loved the way Zeb tilted his hips without driving his cock down Alex’s throat like it was his right. The soft moaning made Alex work that much harder to give Zeb a good experience. It had been a long time since Alex had felt so invested in a virtual stranger.
When it was over, Zeb scrambled around and kissed Alex while spunk still coated his tongue.
“If Chyna’s right,” Zeb said when they broke apart. “And spunk kind of tastes like okra, I might become a fan.”
Alex couldn’t contain his laughter, and Zeb joined in. He was relieved Zeb could appreciate the humor without taking his inexperience so personally.
They were still lying on the floor, holding hands and staring up at the ceiling.
“Can I ask you a question?” Zeb said.
“Uh-oh.”
“Just one?”
Alex chuckled. “Go ahead.”
“How can I get you off?”
“Maybe we should postpone this conversation until the next time.” Alex wavered.
“Come on,” Zeb coxed. “I’ll be stressing over this if you don’t give me a little hint.”
Alex closed his eyes. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, which was dumb, considering he’d just had Zeb’s cock in his mouth. But answering questions most trans men would find intrusive went beyond privacy—it was like yanking out his heart and watching it bleed. The only reason Alex reconsidered was Zeb’s genuine interest in doing the right thing.
“I don’t normally talk about this until I’m sure there’s going to be a relationship,” Alex said hesitantly. “It’s way out of my comfort zone.”
“We’ve already crossed a line,” Zeb reminded him.
“Okay,” Alex sighed. “You know I’m on male hormones, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ve been on a regulated dose for a long time. Aside from the obvious—body hair, musculature, vocal chords—changes occur in the genital region.”
“Such as?”
Alex scrubbed his face with both hands.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Zeb said gently. “Your physical needs have to be addressed. Don’t make me go online and research.”
“Fine,” Alex huffed. “Although it’ll be obvious once we take the next step.”
“Just tell me,” Zeb pleaded. “Please, Alex.”
“Here goes,” Alex said, like he was about to jump over a cliff. “I’ve elected not to have genital reconstruction surgery. To my mind, the risks outweigh the benefits.”
“What are the risks?”
“Loss of sensation among other things.”
“Gotcha.”
“However, since I’ve been on testosterone, my clitoris has almost doubled in size.”
“Really? Like a mini cock?”
“Not enough for penetration, but a lot longer than it used to be.”
“So I can give you head if you let me?”
“Without worrying about gagging,” Alex joked. “Or, if you want the whole dick-down-your-throat experience, I can strap on. I’ve got them in all shapes, colors, and sizes.”
Zeb shook his head. “I think I can live without that experience for now. Besides, what’ll you get out of the exchange if I’m sucking on silicone?”
“Watching you can be a turn-on.”
Zeb squinted. “Probably not as much fun, though. What about fucking?”
“That’s the end of today’s discussion,” Alex announced, sitting up. “To be continued at a later date.”
Zeb grabbed his arm to keep him in place. “But I can, right? I’ve even got a couple of options?”
Alex frowned. “My vagina is off-limits,” he said flatly. “For one thing, it’ll hurt. Since I no longer produce estrogen, having undergone a full hysterectomy, my secretions are way off, and like any other body part, if you don’t use it often enough, it’ll atrophy.”
“We can always use lube,” Zeb argued.
“That won’t help much, but the second reason I won’t accept you that way is the most important. I’m not a woman and won’t be taken like one.”
Awareness bloomed in Zeb’s eyes, and suddenly Alex knew he’d done the right thing to share his truth. Aside from being smart, Zeb was compassionate, and the lack of judgment on his face spoke volumes. “Am I making sense, Zeb?”
“One hundred percent.”
Alex smiled. “Good.”
Zeb grinned back at him. “I’m totally going down on you next time.”
“Is that right?”
“Wait until I get my mouth on you. You’ll scream so loud they’ll hear you in Baton Rouge.”
Alex choked out a laugh. “You’re too much.”
“One last question,” Zeb begged.
“Don’t push it,” Alex scolded.
Zeb’s hand roamed down to Alex’s groin. “What’s this I’m feeling?”
“I’m packing.”
“Translate?”
“It’s a prosthetic cock.”
Zeb’s eyes widened. “You wear this all the time?”
“Whenever I’m around people,” Alex said truthfully. “I feel more authentic.”
“Okay.” Zeb nodded and followed it up with several more kisses. It helped to reestablish their connection. In Alex’s opinion, learning the technicalities of having sex with a trans person could be a buzzkill. Thankfully, Zeb had no preconceived notions and was refreshingly candid.
Later, when they were getting ready to join Chyna and Luca, Zeb said, “Thank you for trusting me.”
“You’re welcome.” Alex crushed Zeb against his chest, and they stayed like that for several seconds. What was it about this inexperienced guy that made it so easy to be himself?
“I wish we didn’t have to go back so soon,” Zeb murmured. “Two days isn’t enough time to get to know you.”
“Come back any time.”
“Do I have an open invitation?” Zeb asked.
“You’re always welcome.”
“Let’s not forget to exchange info,” Zeb reminded him.
They switched phones to add their contact information.
“There you go,” Alex said, handing back Zeb’s phone. “We’re hooked up.”
“In more ways than one.” Zeb smirked.
Alex shook his head again and tugged on Zeb’s hand. “Let’s check on the dynamic duo.”
Chapter 6
November
THEY’D BEEN texting almost every day, and Skyping whenever they got the chance, but hadn’t seen each other since they first hooked up almost one month ago. Alex did his best to answer Zeb’s never-ending questions, and asked several of his own, which were answered without hesitation. In a sense, these virtual dates were more productive. They could shed layers without hormones getting in the way.
Due to Zeb’s classes and Alex’s work commitments, Thanksgiving would be their first opportunity to reconnect in person. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked forward to the iconic holiday with such enthusiasm. This would be the first time he’d spend it without his family, but Zeb had volunteered—insisted—on coming to Manhattan and staying with him for the four-day weekend.
Chyna and Luca were in Illinois for the entire week, which left Alex and Bacon to fend for themselves until Zeb showed up. It was Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and Zeb was due in around noon. Alex had intended to prepare a traditional turkey dinner, with some Southern dishes on the side, but Zeb wasn’t American, and their relationship was in its embryonic stage. It made more sense to wait until they were face-to-face to plan the meal.
Meanwhile, he was making dessert. Sweet potato pie and pecan tarts were impossible to resist, and if they couldn’t have black-eyed peas, collard greens, turkey, and cornbread stuffing, they’d at least have this. Alex’s mother had taught him that food was the way to a man’s heart. Later in life he realized that good sex trumped food any day, but by then he’d mastered his culinary skills. Long before he’d become Alex, young Alexis had spent many hours by her maman perfecting her own technique with a rolling pin.
It was in the restaurant kitchen that she’d gotten her first glimpse of male privilege. Most of the head chefs were men, and they were accorded a certain level of respect women in the same industry lacked. Sous-chefs were also male, at least the ones in their family restaurant, and their status was always a step higher than a female doing the same job. After Alexis became Alex, he moonlighted at the restaurant until his modeling career picked up. Immediately, he noticed the subtle differences in the way he was regarded. The regulars who’d known him as a young girl were long gone, and the new staff only saw an imposing man working by their side. They looked to him for decisions he’d never made in the past. Ironically, instead of being pleased, Alex bristled at the unfairness and vowed to give preference to any female applying for a job. Now, the successful family business was mostly run by women, and Alex felt he’d played a large part in this growth.
The timer went off, and he pulled the last of the mini pecan tarts out of the oven. The smell of butter mingled with corn syrup and toasted pecans wafted through the air, making his mouth water. Bacon was pawing at his jeans, begging for a taste, and Alex took pity on his dog and handed him a pup treat to keep him from losing his mind.
“That’ll have to hold you for now, sweet thing. I’ve got to shower before I meet Zeb at the bus stop.”
Zeb… oh my God….
Alex’s heart began to race as thoughts of what was to come filled his senses. Would the physical attraction be the same, or had it been fueled by a fantastic time at the dance club? Loud music, flashing lights, and a shared joint had sort of pushed them beyond their boundaries. He prayed things wouldn’t be awkward. Four days with someone who was having second thoughts could drag on forever.
Alex chose his clothes carefully, wanting to look his best, but not enough to draw attention. If Zeb was having any doubts about being with a trans male, a shitty remark from a passerby was the last thing they needed. Nine times out of ten, Alex passed for cis. His height and studied look were intimidating to most, and even if there was the slightest doubt, they usually kept their distance.
And granted, Manhattan wasn’t Baton Rouge, and you could walk around in a chicken suit and be ignored, but…. There was always that one asshole who zeroed in on something trivial that could potentially generate a nasty zinger. It would be nice to have their status firmly established before Zeb was forced into an unwanted exchange. Although certain Zeb would come to his aid if need be, there was no reason he should have to deal with the viciousness until he was certain he wanted Alex for a boyfriend.
Just thinking in terms of a boyfriend made Alex nervous. He’d never had anyone willing to face the challenge, and he refused to get his hopes up only to have them stomped upon. Zeb was different, though. He wasn’t sure how much his upbringing factored into the man he’d become, but his staying power was surprisingly hard-core for someone so young and inexperienced. Was this capacity for understanding ingrained, or had he learned how to deal with complex layers of humanity the hard way? Zeb had only shared a tiny piece of his privileged childhood, but that had been enough to convince Alex he was just seeing the tip of the iceberg. Where other guys his age had proven shallow over time, Zeb’s undeniable depth of feeling was immensely appealing, and the main reason Alex felt hopeful.
Done with his shower, Alex stood in front of the mirrored closet door, taking in his appearance with a critical eye. He purposely shied away from anything remotely feminine that might draw attention, keeping his tight black curls cropped close to his scalp. Today, he left some stubble on his chin and upper lip to roughen his overall look. There was no camouflaging his beautiful green eyes, however, unless he slipped on sunglasses. They were fringed with thick, dark lashes and slanted slightly upward, catlike and intriguing, one of his biggest draws. Photogs loved the contrast between the dusky skin and light eyes, and he’d often apply a smudge of gray shadow to make them pop even more. Today wasn’t one of those days, though. He wanted this weekend to be positively memorable.
He examined his chest, once again grateful his parents had thoroughly researched plastic surgeons to get the optimum results for his male sculpting. Even his abdomen, flanks, and hips had received the proper liposuction to create a more masculine physique. As usual, his eyes veered away from the groin area, the only thing left of his previous life. Alex pulled on black nylon briefs and inserted his soft pack to give him the aesthetic he preferred. Black skinny jeans and a black cashmere turtleneck completed his ensemble.
Pausing, he realized he looked like an assassin. To offset the depressing vibe, he wrapped a forest-green scarf around his neck. That little strip of color complemented his eyes, and he looked like a metrosexual instead of a ninja. He hoped Zeb would
agree.
Alex grabbed his black peacoat, clipped Bacon’s leash to his collar, and headed toward the Cornell Club. Despite everything he’d done to prepare for this visit, nerves were wreaking havoc on his self-confidence. What if Zeb had second thoughts? Alex’s gut cramped painfully, and he could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. Big wet spots under his armpits would be a dead giveaway and ruin his casually cool attitude. He forced himself to get a fucking grip and stop acting like a teenager on his first date.
Zeb’s eyes lit up with pleasure when he stepped off the bus and spotted Alex. He walked toward him slowly, and when he was a foot away, he dropped his duffel bag and grinned.
“Can I give you a hug now, or do I have to wait until we’re behind closed doors?” Zeb asked, looking hopeful.
“Come here, sugar,” Alex said huskily, giving him a bro-hug for public consumption.
Zeb’s head brushed Alex’s chin, and he could smell the citrusy shampoo on the silky cap.
“You smell good,” he said.
“So do you,” Zeb replied, looking up at him.
The temptation to bend down and brush Zeb’s mouth with a light kiss was powerful, but Alex hadn’t survived this long by being impulsive. Instead, he whispered, “Kissing will have to wait.”
Zeb nodded and stepped back. He got down on his haunches and gave Bacon his full attention, laughing softly as the dog licked his chin over and over.
Picking up Zeb’s duffel, Alex asked about tomorrow’s meal. “Do you have any objections to a typical Southern-style Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Not at all. I’ve been looking forward to it,” Zeb said. “How would you feel about going to Queens on Saturday for an authentic Filipino dinner with my cousins?”
“You’d take me to your super-Catholic relatives? Won’t they be shocked?”
Zeb stared at him for a few seconds then shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll mind. These people are Americanized and pretty cool.”
“We’ll find out how cool they really are,” Alex said. “Showing up with me on your arm is quite a statement.”
Being With Him Page 5