by Peter Styles
Even just masturbating next to another felt somehow special, something to be cherished.
Spent now, Chris curled up with Jeremiah again and fell asleep.
Chapter 13
“Mmm…”
Jeremiah moved his hips, thrusting slowly. Hot pleasure surged through the lower half of his body, making his leg muscles tense and his toes curl. He gripped at the mattress, bunching up the sheets in two tight fists. His back arched slightly. Wet heat surrounded his swollen dick, moving up and down with the motion of his hips.
I haven’t ever had a dream like this before…
Moaning again, Jeremiah bucked his hips more vigorously.
He was treated to a soft grunt in response, and a low pulse of laughter that shook him straight through his dick and deeper inside to his very core. “I guess that’s what I get for trying to wake you up nicely.”
Jeremiah’s eyes snapped open with shock. “Not a dream?” he gasped.
Chris looked up at him, rubbing the side of his face. “Not a dream. A dream would be sexier than being stabbed in the eye with your dick. It’s a really nice dick but I didn’t want that much of a close-up.”
Jeremiah released his tense grip on the bed, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He squinted a little, trying to make sense of what was happening. Chris had been sucking him while he slept, clearly wanting to do something special. A blush heated his cheeks and he turned his head away, looking over at the wall. Light filtered in from behind the curtains, strong enough to be long past dawn. He wondered exactly what time it was, since he didn’t see a clock anywhere.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I was just surprised, is all.”
Chris sat up, and Jeremiah felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders as he realized that he wasn’t angry. “It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t regret it. My eye really hurts, though.”
Jeremiah leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Chris’s sore eye. “If it falls out, you would make a really sexy pirate.”
“Yeah?” Jeremiah tasted Chris’s soft lips, pressed against his. “Maybe that’s what I should do if this whole real estate thing doesn’t work out.”
“Speaking of that, what time do you need to be going off to your job?”
“Whenever I want,” Chris said, firmly. “I want to finish what I started with you. If that’s okay?”
Jeremiah sighed. He wanted that very much and his dick was still rock-hard and begging for action, but he knew there were more important things to be done. His soul-searching had led him to the conclusion that Chris was everything he had ever wanted. The flaws with Markus weren’t exactly flaws, but now that he thought about it objectively, Jeremiah realized that the man often made him do things that he wasn’t comfortable with. Chris never had.
Markus was brisk and often impersonal. Chris had built his entire business on being friendly.
Markus demanded sex whenever he wanted it. Chris had made sure that he owned up to his mistakes when he made them, and learned from them; when it came time to actually have sex, he had communicated.
Markus had forced him into this whole venture with an ultimatum: “Spy on my rival or I won’t ever marry you.”
And, perhaps most importantly, Markus had spread lies about Chris… and hadn’t listened at all to the truth. That was the last straw. And now, with the camel’s back broken, Jeremiah was going to set everything to right. After he did, he would tell Chris everything that had happened. Chris would understand. He always did.
“I actually think I should get going. And I would hate to keep you from your business. Your employees need you.”
Chris flashed a wicked grin and lightly rubbed the tip of Jeremiah’s cock before pulling his hand away. “You need me too. But I appreciate your thoughtfulness, and you’re right. I shouldn’t neglect what I’ve worked so hard for.”
And neither should Jeremiah.
“Hey, I just remembered. There’s going to be a party at Tribeca Rooftop on Saturday. Business casual. Would you come with me?”
Jeremiah blinked a little bit. He hadn’t heard Markus talk about going to a party at Tribeca. “For business?”
“No, no.” Chris shook his head and reached out to take hold of Jeremiah’s hands, clasping them between his. “I’m sure there will be a lot of high-profile people there, but it’s more of a social event than a business opportunity. I was invited a month ago but I didn’t have anyone to be my plus one. Would you go with me?”
He didn’t even have to think about it. He nodded eagerly. “I would love to. Thank you!” Normally, such a large party would put him on edge but he knew he would be okay with Chris there.
The man before him suddenly seemed uncharacteristically shy. Jeremiah tilted his head, watching him. Then, Chris took a deep breath and held Jeremiah’s hand even tighter, almost painfully. “I wanted to know if you would go with me as… as my boyfriend?”
Oh.
Jeremiah pulled one hand away, laying it on his chest with shock. His thoughts buzzed. Everything around him went hazy. His eyes unfocused. Chris’s boyfriend?
His silence must have worried the other, because Chris leaned back and bit his lip, looking nervous. “You don’t have to. It’s just that I haven’t even thought about seeing anyone since I met you. We can call ourselves whatever you want, just as long as I get to keep seeing you.”
Now Jeremiah bit his own lip, thinking rapidly. His heart was pounding in his chest, making the buzzing of his thoughts even worse. The party was on Saturday, and Chris wanted Jeremiah to be all his on that day and forever after.
Today is Thursday.
That was plenty of time to catch Markus and break up with him. Jeremiah couldn’t see a way where the outcome of this wouldn’t be what he wanted. Soon, all these secrets and lies would be over and they could all be happy. Well, except with Markus, even though Jeremiah had done exactly what he wanted.
“Okay,” he said firmly, and leaned forward to kiss Chris as hard as he could. Their lips pressed together roughly, tongues playing between them. “I want to go with you. I want to be yours, forever.”
Chris blinked again, looking astonished, and then he smiled so wide and sweet that it made Jeremiah’s chest ache. “You will? I’m so happy!”
Jeremiah pressed his face to Chris’s shoulder as he was embraced, his heart still hammering while the other’s beat calm and soothing against him. Only a few more days. Everything would be over.
After a moment of deliberation, it was decided that Jeremiah would shower first. He paused on the way to the bathroom after finding his clothes from where they had been strewn across the room, glancing back over his shoulder at Chris. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”
“I would, but then we would never get anywhere.” Chris waved him away, and Jeremiah knew that he was right. Nevertheless, he put some sway in his hips for the rest of the way and was rewarded with a soft moan from behind. He had forgotten how good it felt to actually have control over how he made someone feel. Markus had stopped paying attention to Jeremiah’s flirting a long time ago, something like two years. That was another thing he had realized after thinking everything through.
He showered quickly and dressed again just as fast. As he was toying with his hair in the mirror—and regretting a lack of hair products—he spied a toothbrush and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste on the sink. After brushing his teeth and poking some more at his hair, he emerged from the bathroom again to find Chris sitting on the bed. The man looked as pleased as a peach.
“You took a peek when you brought that toothbrush in, didn’t you?” Jeremiah accused.
Chris threw his head back and laughed. “You caught me. I just wanted to see what you looked like when you were all soapy and wet. I love your skin. It’s such a beautiful color. Like very weak coffee.”
Jeremiah scowled at him, planting his hands on his hips. “You need to work on that whole complimenting thing.”
“I’ll schedule that in,” Chris promised. Standing
, he crossed the carpet to take Jeremiah into his arms. They kissed, relishing in the touch of each other. “Text me as you can. Actually, text me as much as you can. Save me from the monotony of my day.”
“I will.” Jeremiah pulled out of the embrace and smiled into the eyes of the man who had just changed the course of his life. He knew everything would be okay now. He just knew it. Nothing could go wrong.
He left the apartment and took Markus’s car back to his own building. About halfway there, his confidence started to fail him. There was no way Markus was going to take this well. The best thing to do was catch him at a good time… but they had been together so long that Jeremiah knew Markus was over-the-top and fully committed to everything he ever did, no matter the time of day. He woke up aggressively and went to sleep with the firmness of a man who was confident in his work output.
The solution was to take Markus by surprise then, but Markus didn’t like any surprises.
Stop trying to fool yourself into thinking that there’s going to be an easy way out of this, he scolded himself. There isn’t. It’s going to be rough but it’s necessary.
He opened the door.
Markus spoke from the couch. “I read your note.”
Jeremiah had left a note the night before for when his boyfriend awoke, explaining where he had gone and why.
“And?” Jeremiah said, nervously. His heart jumped up in his throat, lodging so firmly that he feared it was there to stay. Every inch of his body jumped with his pulse, and his stomach churned angrily.
Before he had time to react, Markus launched up off the couch and grabbed Jeremiah in his strong arms. Jeremiah let out a terrified squeak and shut his eyes tightly, bracing for some sort of punishment, but what happened was worse than that: Markus kissed him hard and rough, lavishing attention upon his lips as though there was no gap between them.
“I love your commitment,” Markus growled. His eyes blazed with a brutal confidence, as they always did. For some time Jeremiah had resented that look without even knowing it. No one person could be right every single second of every day. “I bet you didn’t have much time to investigate his apartment, or his office, but if you keep this up he’ll get so comfortable with you that you can do anything you want. You’ll have Chris Finley wrapped around your little finger. What do you feel about that, babe? My main competitor and you’re going to rip him to shreds!”
“But, Markus,” Jeremiah started. His irritation forced the words out for him, otherwise he never would have spoken out of sheer terror of being crushed. Those powerful arms gripping him were happy, and yet they still hurt. Some real damage could be done if Markus willed it.
But his voice cracked and was lost. Markus didn’t hear him. Or, at least, he pretended not to. There were more important things on his mind, and what his boyfriend had to say wasn’t on the list. It never was.
“Babe, you got this. And I have to go to work. You’re such a babe, you know that?”
“Markus…”
Markus ruffled his hair with one massive hand and then released him. The drop in pressure sent Jeremiah’s heart plummeting back down from where it had been lodged in his throat, and even lower. It sank now to the pit of his stormy stomach, adrift in a sea of anxiety. “You’re such a babe,” Markus repeated, a little firmer. He was ending the conversation, signaling he was done. Just like he always did.
Jeremiah opened his mouth again, starting to see angry flecks of red in his vision, but Markus had already turned his back on him and was walking out the door. He slammed it behind him, and a painting jumped off the wall and cracked on the carpet. Shards of glass shimmered on the pale carpet. Jeremiah stared at the broken picture frame, and the red flickers in front of his eyes gathered together like a blazing fire. For a moment, only a moment, he imagined himself racing after Markus and catching him just before the elevator.
“Markus!” he would say, far firmer than the other. He would let it be known that he meant business, with squared shoulders and crossed arms.
“What is it, babe?” Markus would ask, looking bored and impatient.
And Jeremiah would look him right in the eyes and say, “I’m breaking up with you.”
No, that would be too forward. “We have to break up,” was a better way to go. Or, even more accurate, “This isn’t working.”
Yeah, that one was better. It placed blame on no one’s shoulders. In fact, it almost sounded like a positive thing, signaling personal growth. There was nothing wrong with their relationship, or with either of them. They simply grew apart, as people tended to do.
Jeremiah grabbed the doorknob, and his shoulders slumped. A sigh blew from between his pursed lips. He’d waited too long. His boyfriend was already long gone, down the elevator and out into the parking lot. He would be pulling out into the street, humming under his breath and already thinking of his company. Thinking of his job, and not of whatever Jeremiah had wanted to say to him.
Ignored, as always. And Jeremiah had let it happen. He had come home with a mission, words on the tip of his tongue, and the future right before his eyes, and he had screwed up everything.
I wanted to change my future, but I still haven’t changed at all.
Chapter 14
Tribeca Rooftops was quite the place. Chris had been there once before at another party just like this one, and that was when he realized the allure of the high life. Skylights, enormous rooms, caterers that wove effortlessly through the crowd, and live classical music both in the main party room and above on the roof… Everyone was beautiful, or had enough arrogance to believe they were. Everything was perfect, with no expense spared for clothing, decorations, entertainment or food.
The main party room was full of areas defined by patches of colored light, except for the dance floor, which was directly beneath the enormous skylight. Partygoers moved in and out of the light, reminding Chris of that Edgar Allen Poe story. What was it? “The Masque of the Red Death,” where the carrier of a terrible plague infiltrated a party much like this one? That was a dark thought and he hurriedly shook it away. A story was a story, and he was no intellect to be thinking about works like that. Nothing bad could really happen in a place like this, where some of the caterers were bodyguards in disguise, and bouncers guarded all exits and entrances. This was a haven of self-indulgence, and nothing dark could disturb it.
He sat at a table all on his own, admiring the lacy floral edges of the tablecloth for the umpteenth time.
Maybe one day I’ll be hosting a party like this.
It was certainly tempting, imagining a future like that. Yet, on the other hand, he was realizing more and more that he had no desire to grow too large as a company. Bigger yes, but not so large that he lost the personal touch that made Finley Real Estate what it was.
Lifting up his gaze from the white tablecloth, his eyes passed over the expensive centerpiece before ending at his phone. The notification light was distinctly absent, which meant that Jeremiah hadn’t texted him since he left his apartment to head to the party. It was almost time for him to arrive, and Chris could hardly wait. He knew Jeremiah would have a hard time adjusting to this atmosphere, and he wanted to be here for all of it; he wanted to be the one whose arm Jeremiah held, the one he pressed against for comfort like a timid rabbit until he realized that this could be his pasture, his home. There was charm deep inside the bookish man, if only it could be unlocked somehow.
Chris closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to their first date at the Tavern. At what point had Jeremiah emerged from his shell, and why? The answer to that was the answer to everything, he was sure.
And then, there he was. Chris’s phone buzzed as his text finally arrived, but it was too late for that. Jeremiah was there, emerging through the crowd. He wore a suit jacket, and seemed slightly more comfortable with it this time. His eyes said otherwise. They were wide and rimmed with white, like a terrified stallion.
“Jeremiah!” Chris said, calling to him. He rose from the table and strode ov
er to Jeremiah, catching him in his arms and pulling him tight against his chest. Tense muscles immediately relaxed, and Jeremiah lay his head down on him.
“I am not going to like this at all,” Jeremiah whispered.
Chris slid his fingers up through the back of his lover’s hair, caressing him so that his tight neck muscles relaxed as well. “Just give it some time, okay? If you still hate it after half an hour, we can go.”
Jeremiah looked up at him with those beautiful eyes. “Half an hour. No more.”
“I promise.” Chris held out his arm and Jeremiah clung to it, following along behind him as he took them both back over to the table. “What don’t you like about it?”
Jeremiah immediately picked up the name plaque and started fiddling with it. “Too many people all in one place makes me nervous.”
Filing away that information for later, Chris asked, “How do you manage college?”
Jeremiah grimaced, his lip curling. “Who says I do? College still sucks. There’s a lot of people. But it’s something that I do a whole lot. I’ve gotten used to it, even though it still makes me nervous. This is something I haven’t ever done before.”
“So, you have to give yourself some time to get used to it.” Chris placed one hand over Jeremiah’s nervous ones, stilling them beneath his fingers. “Besides, no one here is talking to you but me. No one’s bothering you, or even looking at you twice. Too many people in here for that.” Jeremiah still looked unconvinced, so Chris tried another tactic. “Why don’t you focus on something else?”
“Like what?”
“The music, to start.”
The live music came from a rather large band that was positioned beside the dance floor, although their sound was pumped throughout the rest of the lower party room by a system of speakers. Decorations hid the paths of the wires. As it so happened, Chris’s table was also near the dance floor and so they were able to catch glimpses of the band through the shifting of the crowd.