Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  The next ingredient was the rice, so he moved to the center cupboard where he kept several different varieties. Some people liked potatoes and others were into bread and pasta. Cole was a rice person. He had it every day regardless of the meal. He reached for the square container holding the sticky Japanese variety he preferred. The Basmati was stored in a glass jar, and the regular long grain was in a box; easily distinguishable, one from the other.

  So far, everything was going smoothly, and he was reasonably encouraged with his efforts. He still had not removed the mask. The difficult part would be the slicing and dicing. His mother had shown him how to slice using the professional method, with fingers curled so the side of the knife grazed his knuckles as he chopped. He’d gotten very good at it, but that’s when he could see what he was doing. Today would be a true test. He started with the easiest vegetable, the carrots. He grabbed the peeler from one of the drawers, removing the skin and dumping it into the garbage can. He sliced off both ends easily and proceeded to chop the carrots into small medallions. The mushrooms were simple since all he had to do was take them out of the box and rinse under cold water. The peas were in the freezer bag so it was just a question of opening the bag and pouring the contents into the pot. He’d left the onion for last, sure it would be a disaster. Amazingly, it wasn’t. He peeled and chopped like a pro, happy that all five fingers were still intact.

  After sautéing the chicken in the iron pot, he threw in the vegetables and let them cook for a while before he added the vegetable broth and the rice. Now everything would simmer for about thirty minutes. It smelled delicious and he smiled as he wiped off the counters and rinsed the cutting board and knife under running water. He hadn’t felt this good about an accomplishment in years.

  He decided to continue his practice day by dumping the garbage in the trash chute out in the hallway and making a quick trip to the bakery down the street for some small pastries they could have for dessert. Maybe some cream puffs or brownies would be nice to top off the meal. He removed the mask before leaving the house. He figured he could continue to keep his eyes closed, and so long as he wore sunglasses, no one would be the wiser.

  I WAS having a cigarette and a cup of coffee, surrounded by the debris of the afternoon photo shoot. The tiny sitting area was a mess, thanks to the models and their entourage. They sucked up the brew like deprived camels in the desert, but never bothered to clean up after themselves. There were sugar and creamer wrappers everywhere, along with empty coffee cups and overflowing ashtrays.

  “That was not fun,” I remarked to Emily, just in case she had any doubt as to how I felt.

  She shrugged. “A lot of people get off on that,” she said. “Why don’t you?”

  “I suppose it’s because I don’t think I’m anything special. I don’t understand what Max means when he says my face was meant to be photographed.”

  “He knows his business, Sloan. I’m sure he sees something the rest of us don’t.”

  “Well, we’re going to see the proofs in a minute and you can judge for yourself.”

  Tin walked over to the sofa, flopped down, and put his head on my shoulder. “God, I’m so tired.”

  “It’s fucking hard work, standing around like a statue,” I quipped.

  “You know it’s true.”

  “Yeah, I do. Did you score with any of the hotties?”

  He pushed away and looked me in the eye. “Could you tell?”

  “I saw you leave with one of them.”

  “We went to the restroom for a little bit of action.”

  “Is random sex part of this world?”

  “It’s part of mine.” Tin’s face lit up with a naughty smile. He leaned over and whispered, “Has Max made a move yet?”

  “Is he going to?”

  “You can count on it, my man.”

  “Does he do all his models?”

  “The ones he finds attractive. No one ever says no to him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but don’t consider that some sort of challenge, Sloan. It means nothing to the man and blowing him will not guarantee you a cover.”

  “Well, I’m not looking to be on a cover, so why would I even bother?”

  “Because you find me irresistible,” Max interjected. He was standing behind the sofa and had heard the last part of Tin’s remark. I looked up at him and grinned. “Oops.”

  He smiled back. “Come on, gorgeous, I want to show you the proofs.”

  I disentangled myself from Tin, who had wrapped himself around me, and called out to Emily to join us. She put her coffee cup down, got up from the easy chair, and followed us to another room. This must have been the area where the magic happened. There was a counter lined with computers and I moved up to the first one, surprised to see my face staring out at me.

  “That’s pretty good,” I whispered, impressed that Max was able to turn me into such an alluring model. He had insisted on some eye makeup and the tiniest bit of blush. My lips were plump with gloss, making them look enticing and kissable. I didn’t recognize myself. The guy in the photo was hot and I would have bought anything he had to sell. My eyes dominated the picture. They looked languid and sexy, very come hither.

  “Wow.”

  “I told you I would make you a star,” Max whispered in my ear as he stood right behind me. I could feel his cock pressing against my ass and goose bumps erupted all over my skin. “I’m sending this straight to Klas. You won’t even need an agent. They can deal with me directly.”

  “For what?”

  “They’re looking for a face for a new men’s line. I knew you’d be perfect for the part.”

  “I don’t know if I can make any commitments like that. I have school, you know?”

  “I know. We’ll work around your schedule.”

  “What if I say no?”

  “Are you crazy?” Tin interjected. “You would make millions!”

  “Yeah, Sloan,” Emily seconded, “let him send it. You’ll never get another opportunity like this.”

  “Listen to your friend, darling.” Max was speaking in my ear again, doing funny things to my stomach. “She knows what she’s talking about.” I took his hand and moved to the other side of the room so no one would hear.

  “What’s the catch?” I asked.

  “No catch, my beauty. If you’d like to show your gratitude at a private party, I won’t object.”

  “When?”

  “How about now?”

  “I’ve got to go, Max. Emily and I had plans for tonight.”

  Max looked at me for a long time and then smiled. “Most of my models come willingly, Sloan, but blowing me is not a condition to your success. Although, I must admit that I’m disappointed. Do you not find me attractive?”

  “I… yes… of course, but….” I was stuttering and stammering like a twelve-year-old caught with his dick in his hand. The fact that Max wanted me made me even more nervous.

  Max kissed me. It was a chaste kiss, considering the size of the erection that pressed hard against my thigh. “You call me when you’re ready to party, Sloan. Meantime, your portfolio goes out by special messenger tomorrow, and we’ll see what they have to say.”

  “Okay.” I was still in shock at the suddenness of this aggressive move on his part. No one had ever pursued me or wanted me this badly. It was a heady experience.

  17

  “THIS IS really good, Cole,” Emily remarked, taking another mouthful of the kamameshi.

  Cole’s smile widened, apparently pleased as hell with the compliment. “I’m glad you like it.”

  He’d made a really nice meal and had even bought éclairs for dessert. I was enjoying it, which said a lot for his efforts. Picky eater was my middle name, and I could recount all the tales of woe my mother and I had endured as she tried to shove food down my throat. I wasn’t a big rice eater either, but this dish was tasty and didn’t have the fatty meat that I found repugnant. It was light but filling.

  I wondered wher
e Cole was going with this. Was he trying to make amends for being a sanctimonious prick or just being nice? He seemed happy this evening and he looked great in his dark blue T-shirt and black jeans. He must have just showered, because his hair fell in a shiny black curtain over part of his face. He’d push it back with his long fingers once in a while, but it was silky soft and would always slide back down his forehead.

  “Do you have plans for the evening?” he asked, looking right at me. We’d been avoiding any sort of conversation since our argument, but I answered, trying to be civil for Emily’s sake. No need to subject her to our shit. “We’re meeting Max and Tin at a club.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why don’t you join us, Cole?” Emily interjected. “It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t dance.”

  “Who cares?” I asked. “Come and listen to the music and have a drink with us. You haven’t been out once since I moved in.”

  “Oh, come on, Cole,” Emily pleaded, “I need someone to stand with me while Sloan and his friends cavort on the dance floor.”

  “Don’t you like dancing?” Cole asked her.

  “Not really. I’m sort of a klutz.”

  “That makes two of us.” Cole laughed.

  I didn’t know this, of course. How could I? There was so much about Cole I didn’t know. What I did know was watching him converse with Emily and sit around the table with us was a pleasure I didn’t realize I was missing. Most of my contact with him was exchanging angry words or dealing with daily chores. This was the first time I’d been with him when he was relaxed and happy.

  “You must have had a good day today,” I said.

  He looked surprised, but smiled. “I did. Today was full of little victories.”

  I found that statement to be rather odd, but I let it pass. “So what do you say, Cole? You think you can tolerate a few hours of techno sounds?”

  He shrugged, but Emily kept nodding like a bobble-head doll.

  “Please, Cole?”

  He gave in to her. “Sure.”

  “Thank goodness,” Emily sighed. “Now I won’t be a wallflower.”

  “How are we getting there?”

  “We’ll take a cab,” I answered before standing to retrieve the dishes. “Emily and I will clean up, Cole. It’s the least we can do.”

  “Thanks,” he said gently. “I’ll just go to my room and get ready.”

  “Okay.”

  As soon as he walked out the door, I whispered to Emily. “Why did you ask him to join us? I thought you didn’t like him?”

  “I never said I didn’t like him,” she said, looking surprised. “I just said you should forget about him, and you can, now that Max is breathing down your neck.”

  “So why ask him to come along?”

  “He seems lonely, Sloan.”

  “He does? He’s got a girlfriend.”

  “Why didn’t he mention her, then?”

  “How the hell should I know? I don’t know what he’s thinking half the time.”

  “Don’t stress over this,” she warned, “he can be my date for the evening.”

  “What should I do if Max makes a move?”

  “Do him. Don’t you think he’s pretty hot?”

  “Yeah, in a bossy, I-am-entitled sort of way.”

  “Well, he is rather good at what he does. Those photos of you are unbelievable.”

  “I guess. I’m not sure I want to model, Em.”

  “Why not?” She looked astonished but waited for my answer as she handed over a clean plate, so I could dry it and put it away. “Think of all the money you’d make if nothing else. You’d be financially independent, which means you could tell everyone who annoys you to fuck off.”

  “That’s true.” I was thoughtful for a moment. “My dad will go into therapy the day that happens.”

  “You think he’d object?”

  “I don’t even know what kind of money you’re talking about, Emily.”

  “Whatever the amount is, it’s more than you make now.”

  “I make nothing now. I live off an allowance from Dad.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “So listen to what Max has to offer. The economy sucks and if there’s someone out there willing to pay good money to look at your face, grab it. Not that there’s anything special about you,” she teased. I threw my dishrag at her, and she splashed water at me. Soon we were giggling like school kids and making a big mess at the sink, splashing each other with soapy water.

  “Hey,” Cole said, walking in. “I just mopped that floor. Cool it with the water tricks.”

  I pulled the hose with the sprayer attachment off the sink and pointed it at Cole. “Stand right there, mister, or you’re going to be sorry.”

  “Sorry, my ass,” he grumbled.

  I squeezed the nozzle and watched him jump as the cold water hit him right in the face.

  “Fucker!” He lunged at me and we ended up embracing and trying to throw punches at one another. They weren’t serious punches, more playful than anything else. Cole tried to yank the hose away, but I was hanging on to it, knowing I’d end up soaked if he did manage to pull it out of my hand. Emily threw her arms up in disgust and walked out of the kitchen.

  “I’m going to change,” she announced. “Let me know when you’re ready to continue cleaning, Sloan.”

  Cole and I didn’t even pause, hanging onto each other like participants in WrestleMania. “Give me that hose,” he growled, “or I’ll pull it out.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed. He held me tighter and reached for the hose, but I put it behind my back, forcing him to press even closer. Suddenly, we were both hard as our game turned sexual. I could feel my breathing and my heart rate shift dramatically. Cole was a little bit shorter than me, his head reached my nose, and I could smell the lemon scent of his shampoo and feel the softness of his hair. He wasn’t faring any better. The two spots of color high on his cheeks were dead giveaways. I’d seen them appear whenever he was emotional, either angry or horny, but every time his skin coloring took on the appearance of a nectarine, I knew he was losing it. I seemed to have a knack for knocking him off his high horse, shocking us both with this desperate need that always seemed to swirl around us whenever we got together.

  I put both hands on his ass and pulled him tightly against me. I could feel the rigid outline of his cock pressing against my matching erection, and I groaned and buried my face in his hair, inhaling deeply. He whimpered and tried to push back to break the contact, but I couldn’t let him go. I was too far gone, his smell and his body goading me into action. I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my groin. My erection was painfully obvious, “Feel that, Cole?” I whispered. “It’s yours for the taking if you’d just acknowledge who you are.”

  “I know who I am,” he mumbled against my neck in a tone I was achingly familiar with. He wanted me and wanted me bad. My right hand moved away from his ass, so I could feel him up through his jeans. I wanted nothing more than to slide the zipper down and release his cock so I could swallow him to the root, but I knew that wasn’t going to work with Emily in the next room. I squeezed his ass instead, pulling him even closer and smashing his groin against mine. He moaned loudly, encouraging me, and I slid my foot in between his, pushing his legs apart so that my thigh was pressed up against his cock and we began to rub and grind against each other, dry humping like horny teenagers.

  He cried out and began to kiss me—hungry, needy kisses that made my head spin. I felt my orgasm pushing out before I could even stop it, and suddenly, I was coming in slow waves, hot and pulsing, soaking my pants. He hung on tightly, then I felt him shudder and he sagged in my arms as his own orgasm swept through him. I held him up, feeling the wet heat blossoming in his groin, even as he keened softly in my ear. We’d both made a mess of our pants.

  “Jesus Christ,” he moaned.

  “Cole.” I wanted to tear his clothes off and fuck him right here on the kitchen floor. I
was still hard, not satisfied by that quick interlude at all. “Say the words, Cole.”

  “What words?” He was disheveled and completely out of control but never looked more beautiful in my eyes.

  “Say you’re a queer, just like me.”

  “Fuck you,” he said, pushing me away, “I’ll never be like you.” He spun around and left the room.

  18

  THE MUSIC wasn’t as loud as he’d expected, and he was pleasantly surprised to find out that no smoking was allowed within the confines of the club, Posh. The last time Cole had been inside a dance club was before he’d left San Francisco three years ago. A lot had changed since then.

  He couldn’t see two feet in front of him for one thing, and as such, he felt completely out of his element. He had no idea what one did in a gay club, so he decided to stick it out with Emily since Sloan had disappeared as soon as they walked through the entrance. She was happily giving him a running commentary on everyone’s attire and hotness level.

  “Wow. The men here are gorgeous. Too bad none of them will give me a second look,” she lamented.

  “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Cole asked.

  “Sort of, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feast my eyes,” she admitted.

  He smiled, delighted by her honesty. No wonder she and Sloan were best friends. They were leaning up against the bar and watching the dance floor. She had no idea he was sight-impaired, but it really didn’t matter, since she was being his eyes and ears for the night. There were a few straight couples, according to Emily, but for the most part, the club-goers were gay men in their late thirties and early forties. Professionals, Emily remarked, sipping her Cosmopolitan very slowly. Cole had asked for a glass of white wine and he was nursing it, since he had no desire to get drunk. It was purely for show and partly to quell some of his anxiety.