Do Not Return To Sender

by Unknown

  "Left before I awoke this morning."

  "Figures. You probably drove him away. Damn it!"

  Trenton gripped the counter. "Dyson."

  "What!"

  "I think his owner forced him to live in a cage," Trenton said quietly, barely able to say the words.

  As Dyson turned, he opened and closed his mouth. "Oh my God."

  Trenton nodded. "Now do you understand?"

  ****

  Two days and Razer heard nothing from Trenton. He left several emails and tried to contact him on Skype but it was as if the man disappeared. Sighing, he sat on his deck and thought about their incredible night together. Hell, just describing the event had Blake jealous from afar. At least Blake would be coming home in about a week for a few days. Maybe the two could meet. No, maybe the three could meet. Growling, he laughed at the entire situation. He'd felt more alive that one night than he had in years and he thanked Blake for giving him such an amazing gift.

  Granted, he had a lot to do. Getting the gallery showing was fantastic but the timing was tight. While he knew some big artist had cancelled allowing him the spot, he was grateful for the opportunity no matter how he'd gotten it. It took him an entire day to pack up the selected paintings and that meant dollars he didn't have. At least a crew was coming to take the pieces to the event. Wringing his hands, Razer gazed at the twelve bundled canvases and wondered if he'd selected the right ones. There were more to choose from than he realized. Damn it! His heart racing, he wasn't entirely sure it was because of his introduction into the art community.

  The surprise of the day had been the call from Andre telling him that a renowned art critic was going to be at the show on Saturday night.

  Razer shook his head. No one garnered a review for their first show. He gazed at the clock again and tried to figure what to do next. Nervous wasn't his style and yet today his hands were shaking. And that was before he even thought about the way his heart felt.

  Maybe he just needed to go to see Trenton in person. Could he just be busy with day to day life? Of course that must be it. Sighing, Razer knew better. Something told him Trenton was unhappy with his performance. Clenching his fists, Razer fought the demons that laughed at him. "You're an idiot." Hearing the knock at the door dragged him out of his pity party and he hesitated before opening it. "Dyson. Shit. I wasn't expecting you."

  Dyson nodded. "I know. Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

  Cocking his head, Razor could tell by the look on Dyson's face something was wrong.

  Opening the door wide, he nodded. "Of course. Coffee or a drink?"

  "I think a stiff drink is in order."

  Glancing at his watch, Razer frowned. At barely three in the afternoon, this meant something was wrong indeed. "Bourbon? Tequila?"

  "Whatever you're having. Nice place."

  "Thanks. Feel free to look around. I'll be right back." As he stepped into the kitchen, Razer shook his head. What the hell was going on? A moment later he strolled into the living room to find it empty. As he walked through the house, he found Dyson in his studio. No one but Blake had ever seen his work up close. Swallowing hard, he walked inside and watched the man drink in his work, appreciating it and not simply acknowledging it.

  "You do wonderful work. Are you in galleries?"

  Razer moved beside him as he stared at one of his earlier pieces. "Oddly enough I have my first showing at Gallery Chenko tomorrow night." Handing Dyson a drink, he could see recognition cross Dyson's face. "You know the gallery?"

  "I do. I'm certainly only a novice in my level of appreciation but I know the art placed there.

  Only the finest works are shown. You should be very happy."

  Razer sipped his drink and nodded. "I'm thrilled. It's a dream come true."

  For some time they remained quiet as Dyson studied the various pieces.

  "I don't mean to sound rude and I certainly appreciate the wonderful comments but I can tell you're here with a purpose in mind. Is something wrong with Trenton?"

  Dyson chuckled. "You're very direct."

  "I have to be."

  "Interesting comment. You're right. Something is going on and I know Trenton will never tell you."

  "He hated the other night?"

  "Quite the contrary. You're exactly what he needs and that's why he's ripped apart inside,"

  Dyson said as he turned to stare at Razer.

  "I don't think I'm following."

  Dyson tipped his head back and groaned. "You're both damaged souls."

  His blood chilling instantly, Razer sucked in his breath and walked closer. "You have to explain what you mean." He realized his tone was harsh but there was something about the way Dyson said the words that mean one or both of them knew about his past.

  "Trenton was interested in being a part of a society for awhile during his early twenties. I didn't know him then but he told me that a friend lured him into the lifestyle. While he enjoyed many aspects of BDSM and sex clubs, something happened that he's only told me a part of over the years."

  Razer bit his lip and took a long gulp of his drink, his own hand shaking. "And what does that have to do with me?"

  Dyson turned and locked eyes with Razer. "Your nightmare."

  Almost stumbling backwards, he sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. "What about it?

  What did he tell you? I don't understand. I don't know what this has to do with…"

  "Whoa. Calm down. Can we go somewhere and talk? I need to tell you a story and I need your help."

  "My help?"

  Dyson sighed as he walked closer. "Because he's ready to give all of this up from fear that he'll hurt you. Trenton already cares about you and this is killing him."

  Razer cocked his head. "I don't understand. If he doesn't want me and I'm not good enough in bed or anything else then fine, fuck him!" Turning on his heel, his pride forced Razer toward the door while his heart skipped, longing to talk to Trenton to ask why for himself.

  "Hold on. Please."

  "What good will that do? I don't want to be somebody's boy."

  "That's what I'm talking about!" Dyson said, his voice dark and angry.

  Stopping short, Razer turned around. "The truth."

  "Will you hear me out?"

  Razer groaned as he studied Dyson's eyes, sadness filling them to the point he could only nod. "Fine. Tell me and we'll see how much I'm willing to help. I won't go where I'm not wanted."

  Dyson clucked his jaw and took a long sip of his drink. When he spoke, his voice was strangled. "There are several things you don't know about him. Trenton's led a complicated life."

  "Seems he's led a posh life to me," Razer chortled.

  "That's where you're wrong. Trenton had nothing. He has no family and when he came back to his hometown of Atlanta just out of college he had a dream and nothing else. Hell, I followed him here because I believed in him so much. He built everything around him and it took everything he had, including his soul," Dyson eyed him carefully, his eyes staring holes into Razer's.

  Razer sighed and moved closer. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Because Trenton won't. He's afraid you won't understand the abuse he went through."

  "Abuse?" For some reason the comment surprised him.

  Dyson shook his head. "That's why I'm here. So that he won't fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to him."

  "I don't understand why you're doing this. You obviously care about him," Razer breathed.

  "So you'll listen to me."

  "I can't be in another relationship that is just about sex or even about companionship. I need more than that"

  Dyson closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's just it. Trenton's afraid he'll destroy you."

  ****

  Razer stood in the shower allowing the warm water to cascade down his body for longer than he should have. The start of the gallery showing was in two hours and he had no drive or energy to perk up and pretend like he was an accomplished man. This event
meant the world to him yet he was filled with a chill. The event was simply a method to a future and little more without someone to share it with. Blake promised he'd try and make it back in time but he was having trouble getting a flight. Razer was all alone.

  What Dyson told him was heart wrenching. For some reason he never would've suspected that Trenton had been in an abusive relationship. One similar to his own. Why Dyson felt the need to tell him was beyond him unless Trenton was worried about the nightmare. He'd longed to come clean and explain his past but Razer didn't have the strength. Besides, Dyson wasn't the man that… The thought crashed through his system like a bottle rocket and he fell against the cold tile and covered his face with his hands. There was no way he was feeling this close to a man he didn't know. As he stood shivering, the combination of apprehension, lust and something he never thought he'd experience again stunned him.

  Razer was falling in love. How?

  The information Dyson gave him allowed a better understanding of Trenton and certain pieces were falling together. Two damaged souls were trying to find the one aspect of their life that had been ripped from them. Love.

  Climbing out of the shower, he selected linen pants and a crimson shirt for the evening. If he was lucky enough to have pictures taken the color would pop for the cameras. He studied his reflection for several minutes before checking his emails. Seeing none, he grabbed his keys and headed out for the bright lights of the big city.

  Traffic was surprisingly light and Razer made it to the gallery just as Andre was illuminating his pieces.

  "There you are. I was wondering if we were going to have to send out a search party," the blond man chuckled, giving Razer more than a once over. "Honey, you look positively good enough to eat tonight. You'll show well yourself."

  Razer nodded and ignored the sexual overtones. Andre wasn't his type. Effeminate and very much on the glam side of homosexuality, he exuded all things Razer couldn't tolerate. Razer never flaunted his sexuality openly which was one reason he'd entered into a relationship with Tim. Tim appeared as little more than a reserved homebody. It was too bad Razer was months into the relationship before Tim's true personality rose to the surface. Subversive control was Tim's specialty.

  "Everything looks incredible, Andre. Thanks again for having me."

  "Oh honey, you got friends in high places now," Andre cooed as he adjusted a picture and tipped the light above the oversized piece. "I think you'll be surprised how many people will consider purchasing your work.

  Friends in high places? Razer walked further inside and realized trickles of sweat were racing down his back. And he was nauseous.

  "Don't look so damn nervous, honey. You'll be surprised how much you're going to enjoy this." Andre clapped his hands and stepped back. "I must say. You're very talented."

  "Thank you."

  "The pieces are a reflection of your soul," Andre said as he paced back and forth from one to another.

  Razer chuckled. "That obvious?"

  "I've been in the business for almost twenty years my friend. I know my art. The best artists drag themselves from the very pits of hell and their paintings are the extension of their healing process. Whatever you went through almost destroyed you. It's easy to see."

  Razer opened his mouth to retort when another man stepped into the room.

  "Andre, you have a phone call."

  "Thanks, Jacque. We open in fifteen minutes so make sure the wine is ready." Andre turned to Razer and cocked his head. "Make yourself at home. When the guests arrive, mingle and answer questions. That's all you need to do."

  Razer nodded and watched Andre sashay away. Checking his watch, he knew Blake wasn't going to make it.

  Minutes later the front door was unlocked and within a half an hour, there were fifty people milling about the gallery. Razer was stunned at how much everyone seemed to enjoy his pieces.

  "You're the artist?" The woman smiled and licked her lips as she gazed down to Razer's crotch.

  "I am," Razer said as he flashed a smile, turning up the heat. He knew how and when to turn on the fake charm with the best of them. Modeling was an excellent teacher.

  "Very nice. I'm impressed. Perhaps I'll get my husband to purchase a snazzy treat or two. Tell me, does the artist come and help hang his work?" Cooing, she inched closer and slid a finger down his chest, circling a button on his shirt.

  "That can be arranged," Razer said eyeing the authoritative man that entered the front door.

  Narrowing his eyes, as the man pulled out a notebook his heart thumped into his chest. Andre made good on his promise. He stepped back out of sight of the door way and the woman followed, gazing at another piece.

  "They're all so beautiful. I'm not sure which one I'd choose," she breathed, giving Razer a hungry gaze.

  "I can certainly help you select the right piece if you have a location in mind. I have others in my studio if you're interested in seeing them."

  "I'd be more than interested in seeing them and seeing the artist in action. Tell me, do you do any nudes?"

  Heat crept up Razer's neck. "I don't, no."

  "Pity. I'd love to model for you." Inserting her index finger into her mouth, she pulsed the digit in and out as she batted her eyelashes and removed her finger, allowing a tiny pop to filter into the air.

  Lord, he hadn't had a woman come onto him in such a brazen fashion for months. Full court press had nothing on her. "As I said, I could help you select if you'd like."

  "Well good then, sugar. I'll see what I can do." Leaning in, she pressed a kiss on his check as she allowed her hand to travel to his crotch.

  Flinching, Razer sucked in a breath as the woman cupped his cock, stroking freely in the dim lighting of the store. Swallowing hard, he nodded and willed her away. His nerves were getting the better of him. "That's wonderful."

  She allowed her long nails to scrape down his arm before she walked away her hips swaying back and forth.

  "You should get used to that type of behavior," Blake cooed as he slid behind Razer, wrapping his arms around Razer's waist.

  "You came," Razer said as he leaned into Blake savoring the comforting scent of him.

  "Not yet," Blake chuckled as he pressed his lips across the heat of Razer's skin. "But I will later."

  Razer closed his eyes as Blake ground his hips and throbbing cock across his ass sending a series of tingles dancing down his spine. "I've missed you."

  "Hey, you sound like you're in pain. What gives?" Blake turned him around slowly and lifted Razer's chin with a finger. "This isn't like you. What's going on?"

  Raw emotions flooded his mind, filling Razer with a sense of foreboding. He yanked Blake toward him, capturing his mouth. Pushing his tongue past Blake's lips, he devoured his mouth, hungry for the man that was his friend. As they held each other, they moaned into the kiss.

  Somewhere in the back of Razer's mind he realized they were in a public location but the need to be held by a man he trusted completely outweighed his fears of being caught or seen.

  Breaking the kiss, Blake inhaled deeply and nipped Razer's bottom lip, biting down until Razer shuddered. Easing back, he shook his head. "Well. If that's the kind of greeting I get from being away then I can only imagine what it's going to be like when you visit me in LA." He darted a quick look around the perimeter before coping a feel, cupping and squeezing Razer's groin.

  "Ooooohhhh… God, I want you. Fuck. I want you so bad." Hearing a sound, Razer turned and caught a glimpse of a man that looked like Trenton. And he'd seen the passionate embrace.

  "Shit!" Of course Trenton knew about Blake but didn't know he wasn't out of his life forever.

  "What's wrong?" Blake asked, following Razer's gaze.

  "Be right back." The dichotomy of emotions he felt confused the hell out of him. As Razer pushed through the crowd, he scanned the gallery seeing no one that reminded him of Trenton.

  Heading for the entrance, he bolted outside onto the crowded sidewalk and quickly turned his
head in both directions. There was no one on the teeming streets that resembled him. "Shit!"

  What was he supposed to do? Was it really Trenton or simply a patron admiring his art? His broken heart gave him the answer. Shaking his head, he paced the sidewalk, frustrated at his childish behavior. Granted, there was nothing exclusive about his relationship with the man.

  And it appeared there never would be. Still, after worrying he would destroy Razer, the last thing Trenton needed to have shoved in his face was a gratuitous act of lust.

  "They're looking for you inside," Blake said quietly, flanking his side.

  Razer stole a glance at his stoic face and groaned.

  "Wanna talk about it?"

  "Nothing to talk about."

  "I know when you're lying, Razer. Remember me, your friend?" Blake moved in front of him and studied Razer's face. "You're falling in love with him, aren't you?"

  "Who?" Razer looked down. Why was it so difficult to face Blake?

  "Stop with the crap. Trenton Masters."

  "Of course not!" Razer snapped then softened his voice. "I just had one date with him and with…"

  "Uh-huh. For God's sake, stop denying it. It's written all over your face. Why are you fighting it and why are you so damn forlorn? You've got a gallery showing most people would kill for.

  You're involved in a situation that will employ you and give you what you crave sexually and you're falling in love. Why do you look like the rug was pulled out from under you?"

  "Excuse me, gentlemen." Andre cleared his throat.

  Razer darted a quick look his direction. How long had he been standing hidden in the shadows of the doorway? "Yes?"

  "Jameson Caruthers would like a moment of your time, if you're available. He seems impressed with your work." Andre stepped into the light and studied Blake, disdain riding his face.

  "Thank you, Andre. Please tell him I'll be right in," Razer said as he sighed.

  Nodding, Andre gave Blake a hard look before strolling inside.

  Blake burst out laughing. "Jesus. That man needs a good fuck!"