Stroke of Luck

by Jenna Byrnes

  “I should have, yeah.” Steven stepped into the condo and glanced around. Nothing out of the ordinary, it looked the same as when he’d left that morning. A guilty lump formed in the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry. I just—well, the reporters were crawling all over my mother’s place, and when I tried to go home and saw more photographers there…”

  “Hey.” Paul cupped Steven’s face with one hand. “You never have to call before you come over. I only meant if I’d known you were coming, I’d have hopped in the shower after work. I feel kind of grimy.”

  It was exactly the reception Steven had hoped for. He slid his arms around Paul’s waist and pulled his body close. “I could use a shower, myself. Think there’s room for two?”

  “Oh, yeah. Come on.” Paul tugged him by the hand down the hall to the bathroom. They both stripped quickly and eyed each other hungrily while the water temperature levelled out.

  “Want me to get--” Paul nodded towards the bedroom.

  Rubbers and lube. Options weighing in his mind, Steven shook his head. “Save those for later.” They stepped under the spray, and he closed the shower door.

  Paul grabbed soap and began lathering Steven’s body.

  Steven enjoyed the caresses for a moment before taking the bar away and rubbing it over his lover in return. He didn’t remain on his feet for long. There was something he wanted. Something Paul could give him. He simply needed to make his desires known.

  On his knees, Steven handed the bar of soap back and used both hands to massage Paul’s thick erection. He palmed the heavy balls, soaped then rinsed, as he sucked the rod into his mouth.

  Yes, exactly what I needed. Fill and be filled. To give and take with so much intensity, he didn’t have to think about anything except whose turn it was for the next orgasm. He groaned and sucked the shaft in until it hit the back of his throat.

  “Yeah, baby, that’s good.” Paul grabbed a fistful of Steven’s hair and wound his fingers through it.

  “Mmm.” Steven nodded encouragement. He loved the feeling of his man grabbing him, vying for control. He wanted Paul to possess him, hold his head, as his lover emptied straight down Steven’s willing throat.

  Later, it would be his turn to possess. When they were out of the shower, Steven intended to don a rubber and kneel behind his lover. With Paul on all fours, he’d fuck him with every ounce of energy he could muster. The fantasy had his cock erect and weeping pre-cum down the shower drain.

  Paul writhed against the tile wall. “Oh, yeah. Suck it. Damn, your mouth is hot.”

  Only for you. Steven kept up his ministrations until his lover shuddered and twitched. He steeled himself for the onslaught, and Paul didn’t disappoint.

  Spurts of warm cum filled Steven’s mouth and slid down his throat. He swallowed what he could, lapped up the rest hungrily. He glanced at his lover, collapsed against the tile wall, and grinned. “Feel good?”

  “I’d have to take that down a few notches to consider it ‘good’.” Paul ran a hand through Steven’s hair. “It was fantastic. You’re the best. I’m a little worried I’m getting spoiled.”

  Steven stood and nuzzled Paul’s neck under the warm water spray. “Why would that worry you?” he murmured, lips against flesh.

  Paul shrugged. “You’ve got a lot going on right now. Not sure exactly where I fit in.”

  A jolt of excitement stirred in Steven’s gut. He chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to sound needy. “Where do you want to fit in?”

  Hands slid up, gripping Steven’s waist. “Somewhere next to you. Half of the entity our friends will call StevenandPaul. You know, can’t mention one without the other.”

  Steven chuckled, though he felt serious and nervous on the inside. He wanted them to be a couple, too, but couldn’t get past the niggling worry of the timing. Hesitant, he added, “So, maybe I want that, too.”

  Paul kissed him hungrily, breaking it off after long moments to gasp a breath. “Tell me what you want. Right now. What can I do for you?”

  “Wanna fuck.” Steven returned the kiss. “You on your knees, me behind you. Bedroom.”

  “Yes.” Paul groaned, their lips mashed together. He stopped the water and opened the shower door. A large towel hung on the nearby rack, and he grabbed it, wrapping it around them both.

  Kissing and shimmying to take small steps, they somehow made it to the bedroom. Steven tossed back the covers, and they flopped on the bed before kicking off the towel constricting them. Lying side by side, staring at the ceiling, Steven panted and heard Paul doing the same. He looked over at the man who was rapidly stealing his heart. “I need a minute to catch my breath.”

  Paul rolled to his side and tucked his arm beneath his head. “It’ll take more than a minute for me. You’re amazing.”

  Steven smiled. “We’re amazing together. I can’t get enough. Good thing tomorrow’s Friday. Let’s spend the whole weekend here. Weekend, hell. I don’t work anymore. We could spend a week. Two weeks.” He waggled his eyebrows, the idea causing his cock to thicken again. Hours, days, weeks to do nothing but ravish each other. The possibilities seemed too good to be true.

  “Dream on, babe. This tired old accountant has to report back to work Monday morning. It’s tax season, you know. Between now and April 15th, I’ll be working seventy or eighty hour weeks to get it all done.”

  “No fucking way.” Steven didn’t like the sound of that. He was just warming up to the idea of his and Paul being a couple. He didn’t want to share his lover’s time with anyone. “We’ll never see each other, or when we do, you’ll be too tired to do anything about it.”

  Paul ran his fingers lightly over Steven’s chest. “It’s the biggest reason I haven’t been in a relationship for a while. You’ve heard of football widows? Accountants have tax widows from January through April every year.”

  “That sucks.” Steven’s fingers played over Paul’s. “What if you had a different job? Aren’t there other things an accountant can do? People they can work for?”

  Paul chuckled. “Like who?”

  A thought occurred to Steven, and he blurted it out before considering all the angles. “Like me.” They made eye contact. “I don’t know if managing my money would be a full-time job, but I can probably match whatever salary you’re making now.”

  “Are you serious?” Paul’s eyes lit up.

  “Why not? I can already tell I’m going to need help sorting through all this stuff. My mother wants me to give a donation to her church. An organisation which doesn’t allow gay members, by the way. At least a dozen people left requests for money on my car windshield while I was at her house tonight. One woman said she has a sick child.”

  “Ugh.” Paul rolled on top of Steven and sat up so he straddled him. Groins pressed together, he bent down to kiss Steven’s ear and said softly, “You let me worry about all that stuff from now on. We’ll figure out a decent amount for charity and exactly where it will go. Of course, if you want to be a good boy, you should make your mother happy and let her give money to her church. We can turn around and donate twice as much to the Gay Church of Christ. How about that?” Paul reached down and cupped Steven’s balls.

  Steven sighed. “That sounds perfect. I’m going to leave everything in your hands.” He squirmed as his lover kneaded his flesh. “Yep—in your very capable hands.” The orbs tightened and drew up at the same time his cock lengthened, begging for its share of attention. He caught Paul’s eye. “Oh, and can that ‘be a good boy’ thing start later?”

  Paul chuckled. “Much later.”

  Chapter Four

  Steven padded to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Wearing nothing but boxers, eyes barely open, he carried the mug to the window and sipped from it while looking at the view. Paul’s condo was great, but was that where he’d like to live? He thought about it for a moment. If I could have my choice of living anywhere… He chuckled. Which now, apparently, I can. Where would I choose to live?

  Chicago, of course
. He wouldn’t mind a little distance but didn’t want to be too far from his family. His mother was alone, Tim and Cheryl were struggling. It didn’t seem like the best time to leave.

  So, Chicago. It still left a lot of options. House, condo, apartment? He had no ideas. Never having many options hadn’t prepared him for the freedom he now experienced. He glanced around the empty condo, wondering if it could ever feel like home.

  Paul had gone to the office hours ago while Steven had stayed in bed, dozing comfortably off and on. Neither of them had gotten much sleep. His muscles were sore in places he’d never known existed.

  What a great feeling! Steven smiled—and jumped when the phone rang. He headed to Paul’s desk, but by the time he got there, the answering machine had picked up.

  Paul’s voice sounded smooth and professional. “You have reached 555-1209. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

  The machine beeped, and the caller said, “Hi, Paul. This is Tony at Beeman Jaguar Sales. I found that XK convertible you were asking about, in black or silver. I could have either one here in two days when you decide. I’ll wait to hear from you. 555—”

  Steven tuned out the rest of the call. Paul had been looking at Jaguar convertibles? He already drove a very nice Lincoln. Odd. He glanced down at a stack of papers on Paul’s desk and realised they were bills. He tried to walk away but couldn’t. Like a train wreck, he had to look.

  He picked up the stack and leafed through them. Credit cards with balances totalling over thirty-thousand dollars. Steven gulped. A balance due on the Lincoln. Racquet Club dues, a charge account at a pricey men’s store downtown—those were only the top half of the stack. He dropped the papers back where he’d found them and carried his mug into to the kitchen.

  Paul either made one hell of a salary or was living beyond his means. The credit card balances led Steven to believe the latter and caused a lump to form in his stomach. He couldn’t believe he’d found this out just as he’d started to get so attached to Paul. The timing of the whole relationship/lottery thing really did suck.

  The front door of the condo opened, and he stuck his head around the corner.

  “Hey, you’re up!” Paul’s eyes sparkled. “Damn! I’d hoped to catch you in bed and crawl right in there with you.”

  “I’m up.” Steven gazed at him coolly.

  Paul entered the kitchen and glanced up and down Steven’s body. “Ooh, but not dressed. Maybe I am in luck.” He slid a hand down the front of Steven’s boxers and cupped his crotch.

  “Not right now, okay?” Steven moved away. His voice had come out a bit sharper than he’d intended and seemed to catch his lover’s attention.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Paul asked softly, expression serious.

  “I don’t know. This is all happening too fast.” Steven went into the other room and stopped at the desk. “I have a strange feeling all of a sudden.”

  Paul followed and paused a few feet away, folding his arms across his chest. “What brought this on?”

  “A phone call, for one thing. Your machine got it, but I heard the message. You’re checking out Jaguars?”

  Guilt clouded Paul’s face. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I thought I gave that bastard my cell phone number. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Steven rolled his eyes. “It was a surprise, all right.”

  Paul smiled hopefully. “I didn’t know if you’d want black since the car you have now is that colour. I really liked the silver one, myself. I asked him to check for both and figured you could make the final choice.”

  “I could?” Steven blinked, confused.

  “Sure. It’s a gift for you. I knew you’d been thinking about sports cars and thought you’d look hot in the Jag XK. I guess it was kind of a selfish gift.” He grinned.

  It was all more than Steven could comprehend. “I appreciate the thought, man, but can you really afford that right now? I mean, I came over here to answer the phone and spotted these bills. I know I shouldn’t have looked…” He trailed off, feeling like a jerk for reading Paul’s personal papers.

  The accountant’s face flushed deep red. “Oh, I get it. You’re checking up on me, now. Frankly, sweetheart, I’m not your biggest concern at the moment. I looked into most of the names on those slips of paper you gave me, and they’re an interesting bunch, to say the least. My friend down at the police department told me that several of them have prior arrests for drug habits, and the one with the sick kid, Solada García? Far as we can tell, she doesn’t have any kids. She’s a hooker on the Eastside with a record longer than my dick.” He grew agitated as he spoke.

  Steven tried to focus. “Okay, we expected some of that. It’s exactly why you offered to handle this for me.”

  “Precisely!” Paul snapped. “But you have to trust me. If you’re concerned about me spending your money, this is never going to work.”

  “What was I supposed to think? I’d never met you before I showed up in your office with my lottery ticket. Now you’re talking about StevenandPaul like we’re a couple, and suddenly finding expensive ways to spend my money.”

  All the colour drained from Paul’s face. “Wait just a god-damned minute, here. What you and I shared was completely separate from the lottery ticket. The minute you walked into my office, you knocked my socks off. Before I knew anything about the ticket, I was trying to figure out if you were gay and how I was going to get you back to my place. I’ve never had feelings like that about anyone before, ever.”

  Steven ached to believe him, but it was simply too much. He muttered the first word that kept coming to mind. “Convenient.”

  Paul growled in obvious frustration and anger. He turned towards Steven, his face red again. “Look at me. Remember being with me, as close as two people can be? Do you honestly believe any of that was staged? I’m no actor, and I never could have faked one moment of our time together. I’m crazy about you, Steven.” He turned and pounded his fist against the wall. “Or maybe I’m just fucking crazy.”

  Heart breaking, Steven wanted to reach out to Paul and say he understood. With a sweep of his arm he could clear the desk then bend his lover over and take him right there, ravaging his body, heart and soul. But something niggling deep inside wouldn’t let him. “I’m sorry,” he muttered and walked to the bedroom to gather his clothes.

  Paul followed, incredulous. “You’re fucking leaving? Oh, my god! I can’t believe this. You really think I’m after you for your money?”

  Steven didn’t speak, just dressed and bent down to slip on his socks and shoes.

  Paul stared out the bedroom window as he spoke. “I guess it’s better you go now, before either one of us falls any deeper into this thing. And you’re right, it would never work if you didn’t trust me. Meet with Goodrich, the lawyer, and he can help you get things straightened out. Or find a lawyer of your own, since you obviously doubt my judgement.”

  “Paul.” Steven stood and stared at him. “It’s not that.”

  The handsome man’s eyes flashed at him coolly. “Don’t bother to explain. Just go.”

  Steven grabbed his jacket and walked out. He felt worse than he’d ever recalled feeling in his life, but knew, somehow, he couldn’t stay. The door slam echoed loudly behind him as he left and rang for the lift.

  Paul never reappeared.

  Mind racing, Steven made it to his car and sped away like a madman. He drove around for an hour before he wound up at the construction site his brother worked at. The afternoon had slipped past, and many of the workers were shutting down for the day. He found Tim staring at a set of blueprints, but his brother’s eyes didn’t seem to be focussed.

  “Long day?” Steven stepped up beside him.

  Tim startled and faced him. “They’re all long days, man. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out shopping for cars or something.”

  Steven scowled. “Sore subject. I dunno, I thought maybe you could use a beer as much as I could.”
>
  “Hell, yeah. Let me put this stuff away. I’ll meet you at the pub down the street.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll get us a table.” Steven nodded and slipped back behind the wheel of his Charger, wondering for a moment what driving a Jaguar XK convertible might be like. He shook his head and drove to the pub where he parked, walked in and secured a table near the back.

  The first pitcher of beer had just been delivered when Tim joined him. “That looks good. Pour me one and hold the foam.”

  Steven tossed his brother a sceptical look as he produced two perfect mugs of beer. “Foam? Are you serious? Please,” he chided.

  “Well, hey. I figured you’re not a bartender anymore, you might have forgotten the technique.” Tim sipped from his stein and smacked his lips. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

  “My techniques are just fine, thank you.” Steven fiddled with a napkin. “So, how’s Cheryl doing?”

  “I don’t know, man.” Tim shook his head. “She bitched at me all night long. Almost seemed pissed about your good luck. Not that it has anything to do with what happened to Mattie. I sure as hell don’t know what she’s thinking.”

  Steven shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I thought some good news might cheer her up. Put a smile on her face for a change.”

  “I can’t remember the last time Cheryl smiled.”

  A thought occurred to Steven, but he was hesitant to say it out loud. When he looked at his brother and saw the pain in Tim’s eyes, he knew he had to. “Do you think she’d feel guilty being happy? Like maybe she’s being disloyal to Mattie or something?”

  Tim looked at him incredulously. “Why in the hell would she think that? Life has to go on, doesn’t it?” He knocked back his beer.

  When he went to pour another, Steven saw his hand shake.

  “Of course it does. It just—”

  “Goes on without Mattie.” Tim’s voice cracked. “Oh, Jesus. Why didn’t I see it before? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own guilt, because I had to keep working the whole time Mattie was sick. She was able to take time off and be with him, but the bills kept pouring in. I had to work.”