Lexington Black

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Lexington Black Page 3

by Savannah Smythe


  'Depending on the time you have, we can take it up the M40 towards Oxford or down towards Northolt. The Northolt run is much quicker.'

  'Oh, I have plenty of time,' Black said, making himself comfortable in the white leather passenger seat.

  'Oxford it is, then.'

  Conversation was minimal as they drove. Rob tried a few standard lines that Greg had given him. "Have you driven Audis before?" "What car are you driving at the moment?" Black said nothing and looked around the car, running his fingers around the piping of the seats and prodded buttons. Munroe sang "From Russia With Love."

  'The sound system is excellent ...' Rob began, but Black held up a finger, stalling him.

  'I'm listening to it.'

  Rob kept quiet until they reached the futuristic dome of Deaconsfield service station. He drove through the entrance and pulled up facing the exit.

  The men swapped seats, Black taking off his jacket, folding it carefully and putting it on the back seat. Rob hid another yawn as he took his place on the passenger side. He barely had time to click his seatbelt when Black slammed his foot on the accelerator and roared out of the car park.

  For a few moments, Rob was terrified that he was in the company of a complete lunatic. Black was an impatient driver, taking risks, nipping into spaces that Rob would never have dared to contemplate. All the while, he wore a half-smile, his hands flexing on the plump steering wheel as Rob tried to pick his fingernails out of the white leather seats. He hoped they had not left indentations.

  On the motorway, Black commanded the fast lane. Other cars got out of his way as they saw him coming, apart from one who stubbornly refused to move.

  'Beamer drivers,' Rob sniffed as Black lit up the back of the blue BMW with his laser-powered headlights. Eventually, the car drifted over to the middle lane, the driver flipping them the finger as they passed.

  'I drive a BMW,' Black said calmly. 'But only when I'm in "asshole" mode.'

  Rob decided it was wiser not to say any more. Black wanted to drive without chatter and that was fine, but Rob was finding it harder than ever to keep his eyes open.

  A hand caressed his upper thigh, moving slowly higher. It felt good. So good that he could feel a swelling in his groin. Fingers caressed him, subtly moving towards his inner thigh, pressing lightly on his balls. Blood rushed to his cock as he remembered no-one had touched him like that for a long time. It felt so, so good...

  His eyes flickered. He realised with some horror that he had actually dropped off to sleep. Immediately he was awake, staring around him, checking his face to make sure he had not begun drooling in his sleep. Even worse, he was sporting a boner like a baseball bat, due to the erotic dream he had been in the middle of.

  It had been a dream. Hadn't it? He remembered the frankly sensual stare Black had treated him to the day before. Was it even possible that he had actually touched him?

  His heart was beating in a hectic, random fashion, and his erection hadn't subsided either. Frantically he shifted in his seat and tried to squash it into submission.

  'Jesus, I'm so sorry! I must have dropped off.'

  Black laughed good-humouredly. 'It's no problem. It's never happened to me either, my salesman falling asleep mid-pitch.'

  'I'm not a salesman,' Rob stammered. Christ, what the hell was happening? He hastily closed his jacket to hide the tent he was pitching and driveled out another apology. He was reeling with shock and confusion but Black seemed to find the whole thing very amusing.

  'If you're not a salesman, what are you?'

  'An accountant,' Rob confessed. 'That's why Mr. Soames ...'

  Black made a throw-away gesture with one careless hand. 'The car will sell itself or it won't.'

  Rob took a deep breath, trying to slow his heart beat. 'Then why me? Why not our sales executive?'

  Black veered suddenly to the left, leaving the M40 and pulling into another large service station.

  'Coffee,' he said decisively.

  Rob didn't want to fall asleep and have another horny dream in front of a potential client. 'Good idea,' he said, with some relief.

  CHAPTER 3 - At First Sight

  In Starbucks, Black was in charge. He ordered Rob into a seat where they could talk easily without having to compete with the clatter around them.

  'Please, Mr. Black, I'll get these,' Rob protested.

  'For a start, I insist you call me Lex. And I'm buying as it was my idea. Sit down.'

  He went to queue for their drinks. As Rob watched his impatient body language, he could tell that Lexington Black was not a man accustomed to waiting in line.

  He came back to the table with a tray containing a cappuccino for Rob and a double espresso for himself, as black as molasses.

  'Thank you,' Rob said when he sat down.

  'You're welcome.' Lex smiled at him and for some reason, Rob felt his stomach lurch. He hoped his alcoholic binge from the night before was not going to come back to haunt him.

  'Are you okay?'

  Rob snapped his attention back to the present. 'Yes! Long night last night. I'm sorry.' He was pretty sure this was no ordinary test-drive. The client drove the car, said they liked it or they didn't, or they'd think about it, and that was that.

  SNAP. Lex's fingers were in front of his face. 'I lost you again,' he said, sounding a little exasperated.

  'Sorry.'

  'Don't say that fucking word again,' Lex ordered. 'In return, you can tell me the long story you alluded to in the showroom. The one about the clock?'' He prompted at Rob's blank look.

  'Oh! Well ... It's a bit of a sad tale, really. Not that interesting.'

  'I'm interested.'

  Rob avoided the man's penetrating gaze. He felt a bit like a schoolgirl doing detention with a really hot teacher. He shook his head to clear the mental image and decided on honesty.

  'My wife threw all my possessions out on the driveway. I came home one night and there they were. I had to find a flat immediately and there's no room for it where I am so ... it's at work at the moment. The wood was damaged in the rain and the mechanism is rusty so I'm sending it away to have it restored. It's going next week.' He sat up straighter. 'Anyway, about the car...'

  'You're not a natural salesman, are you?' Lex said, this time with open amusement.

  'Like I said before, I'm an accountant. Well, book-keeper, to be honest.' Rob kept his voice light. With a massive effort he put his professional face on. 'I used to work for one of the big accountancy firms in London. I was a junior Partner.'

  'What made you change?'

  'I was made redundant.'

  'That's too bad.'

  'Last in, first out, that's the way it goes. I've been with Radleys ever since. My ex-wife ...' He stopped short. This was a potential client, not a counseller for his personal problems.

  'Your ex-wife didn't like the thought of you being a book-keeper?' Lex was looking at him intently. 'Is that why she's your ex-wife?'

  Rob was stunned at his perception. 'Yes, actually,' he said when he had recovered his composure.

  'Women can be a fucking pain in the ass. I prefer men.'

  Rob blinked. He couldn't think of anything to say to that.

  'I mean to do business with. To spend time with.' He idly stroked one finger tip along Rob's wrist. 'To sleep with.'

  Rob stared at the spot where Lexington Black had caressed him. It tingled strangely, as if ice had been used instead of warm skin. He felt his breath quicken. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask whether Lex really was interested in the car or was he after something else, but he didn't because misreading the signs would have been awkward at best.

  'Yes. I get it. Wow.' And how did they get from grandfather clocks to his customer's sexual proclivities so quickly? Lex stared at him as though challenging him to respond with something more profound than "wow." Rob shifted in his seat and moved his hands out of reach. He felt as gauche as an adolescent.

  'So ... have you lived in England long?'

 
Lame, lame, lame. The flash in Lex's eyes seemed to confirm it.

  'I live in New York. I'm here on business.'

  This was something Rob could work with. 'Then I don't get it. Surely you could find a car like this easily in the States? One with a steering wheel on the correct side?'

  'You sound as if you don't want me to buy this car.'

  'I don't,' Rob said honestly. 'I'd rather buy it myself, to be honest.'.

  Lex's smile widened. 'Maybe you do have salesman potential after all.'

  'Sorry, I don't...'

  'I bet you would say that about any car I chose to drive today.'

  'No, it's the truth. I once had a Porsche 911 but it was nowhere near as peachy as the Audi. Now the only way I get to be close to a car like that is when I clean it. If you buy it, I'll go into mourning.'

  Lex laughed out loud. 'I'll bear that in mind. To answer your question, I could probably find this car in America. In fact, I know I could, but until I walked past your showroom, I didn't know what I wanted. Have you ever done that? Seen something so special you know your life will never be complete until you possess it?' His gaze seared into Rob's. Rob dropped his attention to his coffee.

  'I guess,' he muttered. Damn it, he was blushing!

  'When I saw the attention you gave that car it damned near gave me a hard-on. I knew I would never find anything like it in the States.'

  Under his magnetic gaze, Rob could feel a strange tightening in his lower belly. He was getting hard again. Change the subject, for Christ's sake.

  'Right. Well. That's great. What do you do for a living?'

  'All in good time. We were talking about you.'

  'Why are you so interested?'

  'If you want me to consider the Audi you'll answer any damned question I care to ask you.' Lex was still smiling, despite the sternness of his tone.

  'But I don't want you to buy the Audi,' Rob countered. Despite the hard-on he was copping under the table, despite the direct questioning from this extraordinary man, he beginning to enjoy himself. His heart was beating in an unfamiliar way. He didn't know what the hell was going on but he decided he liked it. He liked it a lot.

  Lex smiled indulgently. 'Touché, Rob, but you're still going to answer the question. Now it's a matter of principle.'

  'That's just what I was thinking.'

  'Fair enough. Tell me tomorrow night over dinner.'

  Rob was aware he was doing his stranded fish impression again. 'I ...' Think. It wasn't "let's meet up for a pie and a pint" but a "tell me tomorrow over dinner." Dinner. Like a ...

  'You mean, like a date?'

  As soon as he said it, he realised his mistake. Lex concentrated on folding his serviette into smaller and smaller triangles.

  'So I've just told you I'm gay, and now you think I'm hitting on you?'

  Yes, yes, yes! 'No! No, no, no. I...' He caught the Machiavellian glint in Lex's eyes. 'Anyway...'

  'Anyway, what? I'd appreciate a bit of company on my last night in England.'

  Put like that, it sounded less intimidating. 'Of course. I'll be happy to.'

  'Good. Come to the Deansfield Hotel at eight. Their food is fairly reasonable.'

  Rob gave a surprised laugh. 'I know. I'll be there on Sunday for a family lunch, which promises to be joyous. My sister's wedding reception is being held there in September.'

  'That's very convenient. Maybe you'll be able to sample their breakfast as well.' Lex toasted him with his coffee cup, his smile enigmatic. 'So what do you do for fun, Rob Martyn?'

  Rob was monumentally relieved at the change of subject. 'Not much at the moment, but if I had the choice I'd be in a room with a sea view, bashing out pulp novels for an adoring readership. That sounds pretty damned good right now, dull as it sounds.'

  'So you write. Interesting. Published anything?'

  'I self-published once on Amazon, that's all. A couple of years back. I think I sold one e-book, and that was to my sister.'

  'What's the title?'

  Rob laughed. 'I wouldn't inflict it on you.'

  'Go on. I really want to know.'

  'Okay, but it's pretty bad. It's called The Victorian Gentleman's Guide To Twenty-First Century Woman. It's a kind of steampunk/romance/adventure/satire kind of thing.' He looked at the bemused expression on Lex's face. 'I told you it was bad.'

  'Not bad. Maybe a little cumbersome. What the hell is steampunk?'

  Not for the first time, Rob found he was explaining what the steampunk genre was. "Think of the Industrial Revolution, set in a post-apocalyptic future," was how he usually described it. It had been gratifying to discover how popular the genre was, when he first began looking into self-publishing on the internet.

  But since publishing, he had almost forgotten about it, not bothering to advertise, to court social media or talk with other independent authors. Sandy's putdown had convinced him he was no good but he hadn't had the heart to withdraw the book from sale.

  'I've got notebooks full of novels I've started and abandoned repeatedly over the years,' he continued. 'One day I'd like to have some time so I can sit down and actually do one of them some justice.' He shrugged. 'I warned you it was dull.'

  'I wouldn't have said dull. Fucking surreal, perhaps.'

  Taking advantage of the lull in the conversation, Rob glanced at his watch. 'We should be getting back.'

  On the drive back to the showroom, he wondered if he had done the right thing by accepting Lex's invitation to dinner. He had not wanted to offend the man by saying no, but he was not sure what Paul would think if he found out.

  Should he say anything to Lex, to tell him not to say anything?

  No. Then it would imply there was something wrong about two guys just meeting up for a meal and shooting the breeze. And that's what it was. Two guys, meeting up, shooting the breeze.

  But what if it wasn't? What if this was the adventure he had been waiting for his whole life?

  What if he was like his father in more ways than one?

  The thoughts spun around his head as Lex put the Audi through its paces on the empty, twisting roads. It hugged the corners and accelerated with a roar down the straights. Speed limits through the small villages seemed to be irrelevant. By some miracle they were not flashed by speed cameras or spotted by roving policemen, and they arrived back at the showroom little before five o'clock.

  Rob directed Lex towards a parking space between two other cars and he pulled in.

  'I'll put it back in showroom later,' he said as he unfastened his seatbelt.

  As they walked back to Lex's car, Rob felt his hand on his shoulder. It was an innocuous gesture until the moment they broke apart, when he felt his fingertips run lightly down his back and stroke him just above the swell of his buttocks. Then he smoothly shook Rob's hand as if nothing had happened.

  'Until tomorrow, Robin Martyn. Today has been ... enlightening. Definitely not dull.' Again that amused smile, and the gentle squeeze before he let go.

  Damned right, it had been, Rob thought as he practically ran into the cloakroom. He adjusted his clothing to make his erection less noticeable and splashed cold water on his face. He was flushing like a teenager on heat.

  'Is everything all right?' Paul was standing right outside the cloakroom door as he emerged again.

  'Fine,' Rob squeaked. The unexpected sight of Paul's concerned, wrinkled visage calmed his cock and he let out a relieved breath. 'Fine,' he said in an almost normal voice. 'He bought me coffee, chatted me up and said he'd think about it.'

  Paul continued to watch him curiously. 'It was strange when he specifically asked for you to take him out. I don't suppose you have any idea why?'

  'I've never seen him before in my life.'

  'Sounds like the only ride he was interested in was you,' Greg grinned, his humour returned. Rob smiled weakly at them, thinking of their reaction if they ever found out how true that could be.

  That night he was too wired to sleep. He lay on his bed with too many thoughts wh
irling around in his head, the main one being "a guy touched me and I liked it."

  He knew what the implications were. All those people who had looked at him with some sympathy after his premature ejection from his own house would be nodding and saying, "yeah, I knew it.' Which they did not. No-one did. He remembered all the offensive banter he had shared with the guys at the garage. The way they laughed when one of their number went in with a new trendy haircut.

  'What are you, gay now?' The wolf-whistles, the mincing about, all buying into that stereotype of the typical gay man and laughing at his expense.

  Shit, and now he was one of them. What could he say? Hey guys, just so you know, I like cock.

  Just. Wait. One. Fucking. Moment. Lex had made a pass at him. He had invited him to dinner. And he was excited about seeing him again. Any one of those things meant nothing.

  Nothing.

  It was just a chance to do something different, to break up his dull-as-ditchwater weekend. So what if the guy was gay and flirty with it? Rob could never sleep with him. He wouldn't.

  Would he?

  If he did, it meant he could kiss goodbye to the friendly joshing at work and see it replaced with nervousness, even suspicion. Why was he being so nice to them? Was he trying to pull? Was he eyeing them up in their greasy overalls and sweaty hair?

  He was over-thinking it. He had met people like Lexington Black before. He toyed with people and threw them away when he was bored with them. He was ruthless, a playboy. He wasn't really interested in a boring English wannabee novelist-cum-bookkeeper. He just wanted some idle fun whilst he was in a strange country. Possibly a one night stand, something to smile about when he was back on home territory.

  It wasn't as if Rob didn't know how he felt. After all, he'd had his fair share of unsatisfactory encounters before he settled with Sandy, no-one who stood out as being particularly special. Even with Sandy there had been no grand passion. They were mates, in the buddy sense, not the "swan partners for life" sense. Or they had been, before she had become so angry with him.

  In the few months since he had been single, there had been no desire to sleep with anyone, even for a one night stand. He felt like a blank canvas, someone ready to embark on a life-changing adventure. Something had to happen or he would be stuck in Shitsville for the rest of his life.

 

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