Unsaid

by Avery Aster

  An icy knot formed in Lex’s stomach.

  Was Taddy Brill, her best friend, also her sister?

  “Daddy, what did you do?” she said aloud.

  For a minute, she just sat there, floored, trying to make sense of the letter. It was dated the summer she and Taddy were sent off to boarding school. They’d left Manhattan, not returning until college.

  Come to think of it, Taddy’s parents had separated that very month. Birdie had overdosed, twice, shortly thereafter.

  At that instant, her pulse soared. She needed answers.

  Lex ignored what the doctors advised and got to her feet. One leg in front of the other, she ran down the long hallway toward the kitchen while clutching the paper in her hands.

  “Masi.” A faint thread of hysteria was heard in her own voice as she screamed, “Look at this!”

  Miguel’s Manscaping Talents

  Midtown

  “Mig!” My best friend? “It’s you?”

  Mixed emotions surged inside Blake. Bits of gauze and wax fell off his back as he tried to catch his breath. The air felt thin in the room, the walls coming closer. Miguel stood there, confident and somewhat calculated, as if this had been planned all along.

  “Papi, it’s me.”

  His friend wiped his swollen lips, his nose and cheeks reddened, probably from being buried in his ass. Eyes dilated, pupils eclipsed, a colossal bulge emerged from his jeans. Miguel’s cock popped out from his denim waistline seemingly chanting, Suck me. Suck me.

  “What the fuck, Miguel? Was it you the entire time?”

  “Sí. I switched places with the tech when he went for your lotion.” His confidence rocketed through the air. “Did you enjoy my rim job?”

  Rim job? His question didn’t quite register on Blake’s dizzied senses. “Ummm, you sneaky fuck. Why are you doin’ this?”

  “I’m helping you complete your Seven Desires.” Encouragement graced his handsome Latin face.

  The thought tore through his insides. “You’re kidding?” Blake was mortified, flat-out humiliated he’d read his wish list. “How did you get a copy of that?”

  “Last night, Thor and Vive e-mailed it to me. I agreed with them that I’d be the one to help you.”

  The Seven Desires was a fantasy, a joke created to placate his friends to avoid the lecture about casual sex. He wasn’t dumb or naïve; he knew his body needed it. But was his mind ready? Could he trust him? And if he did move forward with the list, should he tell him truth about why he divorced? He wasn’t sure he could go there.

  “You’d do my Seven Desires for me?”

  “Would you rather have the guys Taddy was going to set you up with do it?” His face illustrated confidence.

  “No.” Blake didn’t trust Nello or Gunter. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Miguel, either. Hell, he thought he could trust Diego, and that didn’t work out so well.

  “That’s what friends are for.” He adjusted himself.

  “Guess I should say thank you.”

  “Don’t get all warm ‘n’ fuzzy. You’re going to have to work for it.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “I have my own list, too.” His sexy smirk grew wide.

  Blake held his breath for a second then asked, “You do?”

  Ernie appeared at the door with an amused smirk. He handed Miguel a large bowl. Blake heard the water moving around inside as steam came up from the top. A disposable razor, shave cream, and a few small, Turkish hand towels were placed at their side. The electric clippers lay on a tray by the massage table.

  “Lie back. Let me trim your pubes, and I’ll tell you what mine are.”

  “You’re going to shave my nuts?” Another wave of apprehension swept through him. Seconds before, Miguel’s fingers, two, then what felt like four to be exact, were inside his ass. What would it hurt to have his nut sac in his grip?

  “Sí. I do it for my fuck buddies. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

  “Right.” That’s what Blake would become, number eight hundred or so in his numerous fuck buddy lineup. He detested the ‘FB’ term. It made sex a social club. He’d never been one for casual. Lord knew he topped every tight ass in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens. His dominant top reputation made him notorious with all the subs. “Your fuck buddies. How could I have forgotten?”

  “I hear contempt in your voice.” He reached down and placed the shaver in the water. “Don’t be so judgmental.”

  “Sorry.” Blake resisted the urge to laugh. “But you know you’re a man-whore.” From the reaction in Miguel’s eyes, he should’ve shut his mouth. Did his friend want something more for once in his life, other than a tight piece of ass?

  “We can’t all ride on our prudish and prejudiced morals. Or run off and marry the first and only guy we’ve ever banged.”

  Blake released the air stuck in his lungs in a loud gasp. No one really knew the half of it, except for Lex and Taddy.

  Miguel grabbed the clippers from the tray and plugged them into an outlet under the massage bed. “I’m sorry. That was snarky of me.”

  “Accepted.” Blake noted his remorse.

  “Sorry your marriage didn’t work out, too.”

  “Thank you.” Unlike the Manhattanite gossipmongers, his real friends never asked what happened. They offered their condolences and kept him moving forward. Their concern was his happiness, not the semantics as to who did what to whom. Or who was right and who was wrong, which worked out well considering he hated to point the finger at his ex-husband.

  “You wanted to make a home with Diego and live happily ever after.”

  “That I did. That I tried.” His guard grew stronger and higher than before.

  “Still judging me on my sex life after all these years, aren’t you?”

  “Nooo.” Blake dragged the response in hopes it would show conviction. He was a horrible liar.

  “I see it in your eyes. You don’t know me very well.”

  Miguel pushed the switch, buzzing the clippers into motion. He held on to Blake’s shaft, guiding the head down, and trimmed the pubic hair.

  Fuck. He’s touching me. It feels so good. “Of course I do,” he tried to reply. He thought his friend was a pig—a sexy, hot pork bite. “We’ve been best friends for over a decade. You’ve probably smashed at least two thousand or so hearts by now.”

  “As I said, you don’t know me very well. But you will…soon.” He kept his dark eyes on Blake and groomed his pubes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Christ, did Miguel have to stroke him so slowly? He’d never been as hard as he was right then.

  Miguel shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. Now, lie back and let me groom you.”

  “Whatever you desire.” Blake chuckled and put his hands over his face. His mind raced with sexy thoughts. He imagined his dick inside him, but a warning siren went off in his head. Don’t get hurt, again. You don’t have to do everything on the list. He might understand if you tell him.

  Fuck buddy. No harm. Sex only.

  “You have a nice cock, Blake. I had no idea you’d be so thick.”

  Miguel’s coarse hands from doing his artwork scraped the smooth skin of Blake’s penis in an erotic way.

  “Are you clipping my pubes or jacking me off?” Please, dear God, jack me off already.

  “You aren’t coming today, boy.” He winked. “I’ll make you earn your release.” Trim completed, he turned the clippers off and covered Blake’s crotch in a hot towel. “About your list—” The palm of his hands suddenly grabbed onto his cock hard and tight as if he owned it.

  “Here we go.”

  “You should only do those activities with someone you care about and trust.”

  Was he scorning him? The Big Apple stud was preaching moral conduct? Impossible. But the grip he had on his cock told him otherwise.

  “I appreciate your concern.”

  “Raw sex?” He didn’t let it go.

  I’m not bare backing. Bla
ke rolled his eyes.

  He reached for the shave cream, lacing Blake’s nuts in white foam. The sensation brought his dick to the fullest attention.

  His wet hands grabbed onto his shaft. “Look at what a grower you are. This cock is fat.” Slowly, his fingers glided up then down. “Keep this erection. I’ll shave your shaft.” He cupped the scrotum in his left palm, gliding the razor with his right. “I don’t want to cut you if your dick goes soft.”

  “Ahhh, it won’t.”

  At contact, Blake’s nuts cinched, pumping more excitement to his cock. His tender balls were cared for in Miguel’s large, callused Latin hands.

  “Mig…” He became more turned on. A part of him wanted to jump off the table. Another part of him wanted to orgasm.

  “Sí?’

  “Nothing.” Blake bit the inside of his cheek and arched his feet. He refrained from squealing. Boy, he was so close.

  Miguel took his time. “How’s that feel?”

  The blade glided slowly against his hard flesh.

  Up. Down. Up. Down.

  “I’ll be hard for a month after this.” Manscaping was erotic. No one had touched his cock in years. “And about the raw sex, I’ve never done that. Have you?” He wanted to, but with Diego he couldn’t. Once a guy was infected, there was no taking it back. You were either positive or negative, no in-between.

  “No.” With the razor in his hand, Miguel swiped his shaft from bottom to top.

  Blake eagle-eyed his best friend shaving his nuts; he’d never felt so stiff. The pressure of the scrape against his skin was intense. With each swipe and release showing freshly shaved skin, he felt, in a way, reborn. This was a new beginning, a fresh start.

  “With your sexual conquests in the millions—” He heard his own exaggeration and laughed. He lowered his voice in all seriousness and continued, “I mean, with all the subs you’ve broken in, guys you’ve dated, slept with, group sex, and so on, you’ve never topped without protection?”

  “Never. That’s suicide,” Miguel answered with staid calmness. Leaning closer, he went over his skin with great care.

  His breath smacked Blake’s cock. Did Miguel want to lick him clean?

  “So, you haven’t gone to any of those bare backing parties.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind.” He didn’t want to go into detail on the topic. He felt a bit of relief hearing he’d never gone, though. Diego made it sound as though everyone attended. “What are we going to do?”

  “After we’re done here, we’ll get tested. You know, with the rapid-results swab at the walk-in clinic.”

  “Good idea.” Blake’s defenses began to subside. Knowing Miguel’s status might make his casual sex pill easier to swallow, especially if he agreed to using condoms.

  “And if we both come out clean, you’ll cancel the dates Taddy got for you and we’ll do your list.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Yes. I don’t want you going out with them, ever.”

  “I haven’t been with anyone other than Diego in almost a decade. And what we did between the sheets the last few years wasn’t anything to write home about.” His psyche became zany, jumbled with hope and fear. “I haven’t had much practice.” He doubted whether he should’ve made such an admission, but he wanted his friend to know what he was getting into. He’d been told over and over again by his ex that he was a horrible lover.

  Miguel didn’t appear phased. “Noted.” He put his hand on Blake’s shoulder with reassuring confidence. “For the last six months, my sex partner has been Mr. Right Hand. Our STD results will be one hundred percent accurate, and let us know where we both stand.”

  “Yeah, but Mig, you have experience oceans-deep and wide. I don’t.”

  “I’ll coach you.” Miguel shook the aerosol can from side to side then squirted a foamy, thick lather into his big hands. He jacked Blake up then down, up then down, intentionally building the erection so as not to cut him with the blade. “I have my own list you’re going to carry out for me in return.”

  “Such as?” he asked, his voice rising in surprise. It was unimaginable what he’d be able to do for him. “A four-way? An S&M club? Drug exploration?”

  Eyes rolling, he responded, “Nope. I’ve done it all, minus the drugs.”

  “What then?”

  “You have your Seven Desires. I have my Seven Needs.”

  “You do not.”

  “Sí, I do.”

  Upper East Side

  Why were Taddy and Irma Brillford listed on a paper with her father? Lex couldn’t make much sense of it. The only thing which stuck out to her was probability of paternity. Was Taddy, her lifelong friend of twenty-nine years, the girl she’d gone to boarding school with, a savior who’d helped her start her fashion business…also her half-sister?

  Her fiancé sat at the kitchen table studying the paper.

  “Masi, what do you think?”

  “Appears your father attempted to have a paternity test.” Massimo didn’t seem as fazed by this as she was. If anything, he seemed annoyed, like this couldn’t have happened at a more inconvenient time.

  “I have to go downtown and talk to Mom.” She pushed her chair out from the table. The legs squealed loudly against the floor.

  M2 was awake in the stroller. His big brown eyes, the ones which had hints of green fading each day, grinned up at her.

  “Hi, my baby.” Lex pulled him out of his seat and into her arms. “There, there.” She bounced him on her hip.

  “Go back to bed. I’ll handle this,” Massimo said firmly as he reached for their son.

  “I’ll only be gone an hour. I’ll take M2 with me.” Anger was starting to fester inside her. She knew none of this was her fiancé’s fault, but she didn’t need him getting in her way. Not today.

  “M2 stays here, with you and me. Birdie will stop by later. We’ll talk then.”

  “Masi.” She gasped. He did what she’d feared, overreacted to what the doctor said.

  “Get back in bed.”

  “No.”

  “What about your blood pressure?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.” The deep drawn brows and frown on Massimo’s face worried her. She didn’t want him to be concerned, but she felt fine.

  “Please, Masi.” She turned her back on him right when he was getting ready to speak. She’d never disrespected him like that before.

  I’m sorry. She headed for their bedroom. At the dresser, she reached for a wrap dress with one hand while holding her son with the other. Looking down at her legs, she realized she hadn’t shaved, so she grabbed a pair of jeans instead.

  M2 started making those fussy noises, the kind which let her know he wasn’t happy she was going somewhere. For only six months old, he was rather perceptive. Though she wanted to spend time with M2, she had to see Birdie. Lex couldn’t ask her mother about this over the phone. Birdie would most likely hang up on her if she tried. Or avoid her ‘til the wedding started. She didn’t want that. The paternity test question had to be dealt with in person.

  A thump came from behind her.

  Startled, she turned around to see Massimo rummaging through their sex chest.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for these.” He held up a pair of twenty-four-karat gold handcuffs. They were from Tittoni’s Gems of Distinction, his sister’s nearby jewelry shop. A gift made for Lex for Valentine’s Day.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She realized she couldn’t take her son with her. He was hungry. “Feed M2 for me please. There’s breast milk in the fridge. I won’t be gone long.”

  Lex had to act fast. She gave her son a kiss on the forehead and placed him in the crib near their bed. The second she let him go, he started to cry.

  I’m sorry, little guy. God, she hated to hear him cry. There was nothing worse than those tears. Except maybe finding out her father had kept a secret from her. She turned to run out th
e door.

  “Bella.” Massimo stepped in front of her. “Don’t disrespect me.”

  “We’re not arguing. I’m leaving. You’re staying here.” She flirted with him, reached up to kiss him and wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. “I need answers,” she whispered in his ear.

  Taking her in his arms, he kissed her and lifted her up; her feet didn’t touch the carpeting.

  “No, Masi.” Lex hated when he’d manhandle her around as some kind of puppet. “Put me down.”

  “Sì.” Massimo carried her over to the bed. “Light as a feather.” He placed her gently on the mattress.

  Lex sat up, inching her way off the bed, but Massimo playfully crawled on top of her. He sat on her legs.

  “You’re hurting me,” she lied. Usually a little pain made her nipples ache with need.

  “Never.” His hand lightly came over her midsection. “We have another baby growing in here. You must not upset yourself.”

  “Too late. I’m more than upset. I’m livid. Now, let me go.” Normally, she would’ve been turned on by his controlling ways, but right then, she needed to get downtown and see her mother.

  “I will handle Birdie.” Massimo grabbed her right hand with his left. He used his right to pull the handcuffs from his back pocket and latch them around her wrist with one loud clink.

  “This isn’t funny. Don’t—”

  “Listen to me and listen well.”

  He tried to cuff her other wrist by grabbing onto it, but she was too quick.

  “Lex. Stay still.” He tried again and cuffed her left hand, looping it through the headboard with rope. The rope was also from their sex chest, but it wasn’t from some fancy jewelry store. He’d purchased it at Home Depot; he loved tying her up. Only that time, they wouldn’t make love.

  “You are to stay in this bed ‘til tomorrow. No stress. No family drama. Just you and some rest.” He lifted himself off her, smiled as if proud of his capture, and got to his feet.

  “Come on…”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t untie me right this instant I’m going to…take M2 and go live in California.” Lex couldn’t think of anything. Her man wasn’t threatened easily.

  “Oh, yeah, with who? All of your friends are here with us.”