by Shawn Lane
She rolled her eyes. “No, I have all the shit to make you look amazingly gorgeous. Not that I think you need this stuff. No. Jimmy and I are going to the reunion after all.”
“What?” He winced at the high-pitched squeal of his own voice. Took a calming breath. “I thought you said Jimmy wouldn’t want to go.”
“I thought he wouldn’t. He surprised me a couple of days ago. He said he’d found my stuff on the reunion and had paid for us to go as an anniversary surprise.”
“Swell.” Although maybe it would be nice to have a friendly face there.
She smiled. “It’s only for Saturday night’s dinner and dance. You could get tickets to that separate from the rest of the reunion. Look at it this way, sweetie. I’ll be there to help you with Tim Olfander.”
Brandon snorted. “I don’t need any help with him. Except for maybe avoiding him at all costs. But you’re right, I’m starting to like the idea of you and Jimmy being there.”
“I bet he doesn’t look like he used to look. He’s probably gained weight and lost most of his hair. Maybe even has a bad comb-over.”
He removed a croissant from the bag and took a large bite. “Think so?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes. Karma and everything. Hurry up and finish that so we can get started on making you even more fabulous.”
* * * *
It was strange to be back in Lincoln Hill, Tim reflected. He’d left to go to college elsewhere and never had a reason to step foot there again. His family—his older sister Angie and his aunt and uncle—had all left at around the same time, Angie to move with her military husband while his aunt and uncle retired to Reno.
Growing up there had not been bad. It was one of those affluent cities in Northern California that was very proud of its liberalism. Though his aunt and uncle, who had raised him and Angie after their parents died in a plane crash, had not been especially wealthy, they’d done well, and Tim had been fortunate to be popular in school even though he was gay. A rarity, perhaps, but one that ensured he hadn’t faced a lot of bullying. Most of his friends were on the football and baseball teams, which afforded him some protections other kids didn’t have, and his interaction in the Gay-Straight Alliance with Lance and Ashtyn also helped.
As the town car pulled in front of Lincoln Hill River Resort, he smiled. The grounds were gorgeous. The resort hadn’t been built when he’d last been in the city. Just the river had been there, surrounded by fields of grass and rolling hills. Now a beautiful Victorian-looking resort hotel had been built, painted in pink, purple, and turquoise. He knew from the brochure that it had three pools, including an indoor one, four spas, two gyms, a shopping mall, several restaurants, a salon, a ballroom, and a convention center. Impressive.
The driver opened the passenger door, and Tim got out right next to an enormous kissing-fish fountain encircled by fragrant red and yellow flowers. He shook his head. Only a committee from a wealthy place like Lincoln Hill would have chosen an extravagance like this resort for their high school reunion.
A bellhop appeared at his elbow. “Checking in, sir?” the short guy of about twenty asked politely.
“Yes, for the reunion.” He’d decided to arrive Wednesday even though the reunion activities didn’t really begin until Friday. He could use some extra time off.
The bellhop nodded. “Of course, sir. I’ll take your bags inside,” he said as the town car driver removed Tim’s luggage from the trunk.
Tim turned and paid the driver and then followed the bellhop across the pebbled entryway and through two ornate automatic doors into the lobby of the resort. It bustled with a crowd of men and women of similar age to his, so he guessed they were likely also early arrivers for the reunion. After a quick glance around, Tim didn’t recognize any of them, and he definitely didn’t see Lance or Ashtyn. He’d been in touch with both of them since finding out they were all attending, and they’d all exchanged information about their arrivals. He knew Lance wouldn’t be arriving until Thursday morning and Ashtyn not until Friday morning.
The bellhop gave him a ticket for his bags and promised he’d have them delivered to his room after he checked in, so Tim went to stand in the check-in line.
He wasn’t really sure just what he expected out of this long weekend and the reunion. But he knew he had to get Keith out of his head. Micah deserved to be happy and not have his best friend mooning over his husband. Maybe Tim would get lucky and meet someone here to take his mind off it. Micah and Keith had been married for months now. True, Tim had tried seeing a variety of guys, including the piano player he’d fucked after the wedding. None of them had been interesting enough to see more than a handful of times. Not that he was still hung up over Keith. Much.
As he moved along the line, Tim began to notice one of the guys behind the reception desk. He had brown hair with blond highlights, short on the sides but longer on the top. He wore a black suit, a crisp white shirt, and a soft-blue tie. Tim couldn’t stop staring at him, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. Sure, the man was gorgeous. Slightly plump lips, high cheekbones, a pert little nose. A very tiny stud—looked like diamond—in his left ear. Definite eye candy. But perhaps just a bit prettier than Tim’s usual type. This one looked softer, less rugged than the kind of guy he found attractive. Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off him.
The closer Tim got, the more fascinated he became, and he started praying that he’d be called to the guy’s line instead of either of the two women or the blond guy on the opposite end. Even if he had prayed regularly, which he didn’t, it was a strange thing to pray for. Hell, the guy was probably straight or something. Lots of guys wore earrings these days. It meant nothing.
Soon it was his turn, and one of the women said, “Next, please.”
Damn!
It appeared his hottie was just wrapping up the guest he was helping, too. Tim turned to the woman behind him. “You go.”
She raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and stepped around him to make her way to the woman behind the reception desk.
Please let him be free next.
Tim felt as if he were in high school again instead of just at a reunion.
“Next guest, please,” the man said.
Calmly, even though he kind of wanted to run, Tim made his way up to the man, paperwork confirming his reservation clutched in his hands.
The man smiled. “May I—” He stopped. Stared at Tim, his smile fading. He blinked and then cleared his throat. “May I help you, sir?”
Periwinkle blue. The hottie’s eyes were a beautiful periwinkle blue. As gorgeous as he’d been from the line, up close he was simply stunning.
Tim flashed him a smile as he spotted the guy’s name tag. “I’m checking in…Brandon. Oh, assistant manager, huh? Of the whole resort?”
Brandon blushed a little. “That’s right. May I have your name, sir?”
“Timothy Olfander.” He stuck out his hand for Brandon to shake.
Brandon ignored his hand and instead turned to punch the keys of a computer. “You’re here for the Lincoln Hill High School Reunion. Is that right, Mr. Olfander?”
“Yes, but you can call me Tim.”
“And I have here that your checkout date is a week from today, next Wednesday.”
“Yes.” Tim nodded. “When do you get off?”
“Excuse me?” Brandon’s gaze met his, his eyes just a touch wide.
“Work. When do you get off work?” He grinned.
Judging by the reaction he was getting out of Brandon, Tim guessed the man was gay. Very good news for him. He just hoped Brandon didn’t have some rule about not fraternizing with guests. Or the hotel. He supposed the resort might forbid it.
“Seven,” Brandon answered, looking as though he wasn’t sure he should have. He reached into a drawer and pulled out two plastic key cards. He ran them through a scanner.
“Great. How about a drink?”
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
“Not g
ay?”
“Well, I, I’m not sure that’s your business, sir, but yes, I am.”
Tim grinned. “Okay, so what’s the harm in one drink? Is it against resort rules?”
“Probably.”
“You can come to my room for the drink, then, and no one will see you.”
“That most definitely would be against resort rules.” Brandon handed him the key cards and a resort map. He picked up a pen and circled a group of rooms. “Your room is here. Take the garden elevators to the left of the lobby up to the fourth floor.”
“Meet me in the bar at seven fifteen.”
“Enjoy your stay, sir.”
“Seven fifteen,” Tim called as he stepped away from the reception desk.
Chapter 4
As the minutes ticked by, Tim figured he’d struck out. Brandon wouldn’t be coming to the bar. He tried not to be too disappointed as he glanced at his watch for the fourth time since seven fifteen had come and gone. He’d come back to Lincoln Hill to relax after a particularly nasty trial and to maybe forget his infatuation with Keith, and just because the cutest, sexiest guy he’d seen in a long time hadn’t wanted to play didn’t mean there might not be other opportunities.
There might be other guys, other chances at the resort or even the reunion. And if there weren’t any, well, back home in Los Angeles there would be dozens of prospects.
He stared into the glass of merlot he’d been drinking for close to twenty-five minutes. Yeah, there’d be other hot guys, sure.
Still—
“Hello, Tim.”
His heart sped up immediately as he looked over to see Brandon standing beside the booth, looking about as hot as any guy he’d ever seen. Model perfect. If the model was a bit of a flamboyant twink dressed in a nice suit.
“Hi, Brandon.” Tim gestured to the booth. “Have a seat. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show.”
Brandon tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t say I would.”
“I know. But I was hoping. Sit,” he said when Brandon had made no move to slide into the booth. He’d chosen a corner booth in the bar that had only one long bench, with only one way to slide in. Tim had scooted over, giving Brandon room.
Shrugging, Brandon sat on the bench as far from Tim as he could. Tim wouldn’t allow that. This was supposed to be him getting to know Brandon, and he couldn’t do that with Brandon far away from him as though he had cooties or something.
“What do you want to drink?” Tim asked. “And why are you sitting way over there?”
“Well, I…I don’t know.”
For the first time since Brandon had appeared, he seemed vaguely uncertain, and Tim decided to take that uncertainty and make an opportunity out of it. He moved across the bench until he was seated directly next to Brandon.
“That’s better.” Tim took a sip of his wine.
One of the bar waitresses, a tall, thin blonde, made her way over to the booth before Brandon could say anything. “Mr. Collins?”
“Hi, Tabitha. I’ll just have a Diet Coke, thanks.”
Tabitha eyed Tim’s wine. “How are you doing on your drink, sir?”
Tim glanced at his glass. He only had a swallow left, so he quickly finished it. “I’ll take another.”
Maybe it would give him a little bit of courage. He was into Brandon, but he didn’t get the impression Brandon thought much of him. He was probably pushing too hard. And honestly he didn’t know why he wanted Brandon so much. Yes, he was definitely good-looking. No denying that. Tim thought he could stare into Brandon’s amazing eyes for hours.
When the waitress stepped away from the booth, Tim nudged him. “Nothing to drink? You’re off duty, right?”
“I’m not working, but this is still the place where I do work,” Brandon said. He folded his hands in front of him on the table. “Not to mention I don’t intend to drink and drive, and I have to drive home later.”
Tim smiled. “Well, not necessarily.”
Brandon bit his bottom lip and eyed him sideways. “Not necessarily?”
Tabitha came by and set their drinks down on the table before moving away again. Brandon pushed the straw of his Diet Coke into his mouth, which put decidedly wicked thoughts in Tim’s head. He cleared his throat and drank some wine.
“Driving home. You could come up to my hotel room instead.”
Brandon blinked but didn’t drop his gaze. He stared at Tim silently for a long time. So long Tim thought he had pushed the other man too far.
“You’re pretty forward,” he said finally. But his lips curved with just a hint of a smile. “Are you usually like this with guys you just met?”
He grinned, hoping it came off as disarming. “I know what I want. I’m only going to be here a short time. I believe in being honest.”
“So you only came to this reunion to get laid?” Brandon asked.
“I wouldn’t say that. But I’m certainly not going to waste an opportunity to make that happen.”
Brandon smirked. “I’m an opportunity? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“A very hot one.” And just then Tim figured Brandon was going to laugh in his face. Tell him what an asshole he thought Tim actually was. Maybe he was, Tim acknowledged.
“You’re a guest of the resort.”
“And? So what? I’m certainly not going to make a big deal out of you coming to my room. I’m not going to tell your boss. You want discretion, you can have it.” Tim pushed a key card toward him hopefully. “Use that key. Take your time getting to the room until you feel comfortable. Room 424.”
“I remember the room number,” Brandon said, and then blushed. Tim hoped that meant he was more interested than he let on. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
He wasn’t, not at all. But he wanted Brandon to think he was. He put his hand on Brandon’s leg just above his knee and squeezed. “I want to fuck you.”
Brandon’s tongue darted out to moisten his lips. He glanced around the bar as if he were maybe afraid someone was watching them or was listening. He dropped his voice to a mere whisper and asked, “How do you know I’m a bottom?”
“You are.” Tim ran the thumb of his other hand along the pulse of Brandon’s wrist. He hesitated, wondering if perhaps he’d miscalculated. “Aren’t you?”
Brandon didn’t respond immediately. In fact, he looked as though he was giving Tim’s proposition way too much thought, which in Tim’s experience meant he would surely run for the hills.
“Brandon?”
Brandon cleared his throat and took a large swallow of his Diet Coke. “Yes. Maybe.”
“Use that key.” Tim went to take another drink of his wine but found he no longer wanted it. He was ready to go back to his room and hopefully have some company. He gestured to Tabitha for the check, then wrote his room number on the receipt and plopped down cash for the tip. “Thanks for the company, Brandon.” He slid out of the booth and left the bar, completely unsure if Brandon would show or not.
* * * *
Brandon’s hand shook as he stood before room 424, holding a slim plastic key card in his fingers. No one else walked the hall, but he couldn’t keep himself from darting glances left and right as though someone would catch him about to go into a guest’s room.
He was crazy. There was no other explanation for him even contemplating this, let alone acting on it. So his high school crush wanted to fuck him. After all these years. Apparently Veronica had been wrong about karma, because Tim not only hadn’t grown fat and bald, but he looked sexier than he had ten years ago. Dark hair, big brown eyes, chiseled chin with a five o’clock shadow. He filled out his casual polo shirt with broad shoulders and bulging biceps. Brandon thought he might drool.
And this, of course, was why he now stood outside the door of a guest. Trying to fulfill a fantasy he’d had ten years before.
Idiot.
He knocked lightly, but there was no response. Tim had said to use the key. Brandon slipped the card int
o the slot, and the green light flashed. He turned the handle and stepped inside Tim’s room.
No Tim.
But then he saw the drapes billowing in the soft evening breeze and realized Tim stood on the balcony, leaning over the railing. It was still light enough to see, and Tim’s room overlooked a rose garden complete with arches and gazebos, while in the distance would be views of one of the outdoor pools and mountains even farther out. The faint scent of blooming flowers wafted on the slightly warm breeze.
“Should I come back?”
Tim jumped and turned around.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Tim shook his head and smiled. “You didn’t exactly. Well, maybe. I was kind of fantasizing about you. I’m glad you came.” He walked slowly back into the room to stand directly in front of Brandon.
Brandon bit his lip. “I wasn’t sure I would. And I definitely know I shouldn’t.”
Tim’s dark eyes fixed on him, intense and hot. “Then why did you?”
How could he explain? He couldn’t really say, Because you’re the guy I had a huge crush on in high school who wouldn’t give me the time of day, and now you want to fuck me.
In reality, Tim still, even now, didn’t know Brandon Collins, the lonely, dorky kid from high school, at all.
“I guess…I just want to know.”
“Want to know what?” Tim raised his hand to cup Brandon’s jaw, and he grazed his thumb along the little bit of stubble growing there. Brandon’s cock instantly went rock hard.
He swallowed. “What it’s like to be fucked by you.”
Tim grabbed Brandon’s pale-blue tie and loosened it, then spun him around to face the bed. Brandon nearly face-planted, but he braced himself with his hands on the edge of the bed, his body bent obscenely so that his ass lined up with Tim’s crotch.
Directly next to him on the mattress lay a tube of lube and a strip of condoms. His heart raced; his throat tightened. This was really happening. He should remember to breathe. Exhaling softly, Brandon moaned when Tim squeezed his ass.
“Like that, huh?” Tim murmured from behind him, pressed against hm. He reached between Brandon’s spread legs and cupped his erection.