Finally able to take a breath, Barrett removed the dildo and let the spray bring him back to reality. If he’d any doubts about his desire to be fucked by a guy, they were gone now. That he’d been part of a foursome confounded him, though. Switch hitter or not, having sex with more than one person had never entered his mind until today.
Hell, he needed a therapy session with Rory to figure out what was going on in his brain. Even with her background, she’d probably call him a pervert. Since when was he interested in orgy sex? His mental movie resembled bachelor-party porn more than relationship sex—except he would’ve been surrounded by naked women instead of his high school crush and their two male neighbors. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he didn’t do one-night stands or casual hookups.
Sitting up, he turned off the water and rested his head in his hands. How was he supposed to spend the evening with Rory, Miles, and Winston without remembering every detail of their imaginary encounter? Could he even look any of them in the eye?
He levered up, standing once again to dry and step out of the shower. A swipe of the towel across the mirror cleared a streaky swath of steam, but he kept his gaze averted. He couldn’t even look himself in the eye.
Leaving his robe hanging on the wall hook, he strode naked to the bedroom to dig a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt from the dresser. After a Pop-Tart and a cup of coffee, he’d write a note to Rory, saying something had come up and he couldn’t make it to movie night. He had no other choice.
That’ll be a great start to convincing her to go out with me. You’ve got balls, Barrett. Prove it.
Fine, he’d face her, Winston, and Miles tonight. Kissing her as he left was out off the agenda for now.
He dressed, trying to erase the wild fantasy from his mind. The strong smell of coffee drew him to the kitchen, and he poured a mug, doctoring it with powdered creamer since he hadn’t taken time to make a grocery run to stock his refrigerator yet. The first sip nearly scalded the tip of his tongue, but the pungent flavor and aroma gave him the jolt he needed to tackle searching the pantry for his breakfast of champions.
Finding a jar of peanut butter and a mostly empty bag of pretzels in front, he opted for easy. He stood at the sink, scooping out gooey globs with stale mini-twists. His mom was probably rolling over in her grave. Breakfast had been the most important meal of the day when he was growing up. A plate of eggs, toast, and bacon or sausage awaited him every morning before school until he’d moved into campus housing at eighteen.
I should’ve—
No, second-guessing his decision to go away to college wouldn’t change anything. She still would’ve gotten cancer, and she still would’ve died. Radical treatments might’ve been able to extend her life a few months, but terminal meant death in the end, no matter the expense or effort. He couldn’t blame her for being brave enough to face her fate head-on. His dad hadn’t handled it half as well.
If she could muster the courage to die, Barrett could handle spending an evening with his new neighbors. He’d act like nothing had happened.
Gulping down his coffee, he tossed the last few pretzels in the trash and put the lid on the peanut butter. After he finished organizing his office, he’d buy enough groceries to eat like an adult instead of pathetic college student.
A morning of setting up his current project in solitude and silence calmed his hyped-up nerves. He could’ve been the only resident in the building from the lack of voices and normal sounds, and it didn’t bother him in the least. Deep into writing a program, he often holed up late at night to avoid interruptions.
His notebooks lay scattered on the desk, ready for random scribblings related to his work. The whiteboard hung on the adjacent wall, and manuals lined the built-in bookshelves. The space was his new home away from home.
A knock at the door sent his pulse jumping. Taking a slow breath, he walked to the door to let in his visitor.
Winston stood in the hall, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. “Want to get lunch with me? I think we need to clear up a few things after last night.”
Giving a half shrug, Barrett patted his pants pocket for his keys. He locked his eyes on a point over the other man’s shoulder to keep from studying the body of the guy who’d sucked his nipples earlier. “Look, I like Rory. I was there when the jerks in high school made jokes about her behind her back. The guys couldn’t see past her…endowments, and the girls called her a slut because she had the body of a centerfold at fifteen. Add the blonde hair, and well…She was smart and nice, but they treated her like shit, just like they did to me—except I was the nerd. You have no reason to protect her from me.”
His hand extended, Winston sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for being an ass.”
Almost afraid to shake his hand, Barrett hesitated. “Do you mind if I ask if you like her too? Is that the problem?”
Winston glanced down the hall and back again. “I’d rather not get into a discussion here.”
“Okay. Where do you want to go for lunch?” Stepping into the corridor, Barrett pulled the door closed and checked the lock.
I can do this. It’s not like I actually had sex with him. And Miles. And Rory.
“How about the pub on the next block? Decent sandwiches and cold beer. It’s not usually very busy this time of day on a Saturday.”
“Sounds fine.” Barrett fell into step beside Winston, his pulse thumping in his ears and his muscles tensing at the occasional brush of their arms. When they exited the building, he put a little more space between them. “Nobody can overhear now. What’s the issue? You like her? Miles likes her?”
Following the sidewalk, Winston was quiet long enough that Barrett wasn’t sure he was going to answer any of the questions. “Miles and I both like her, but we agreed not to pursue more than friendship with her to avoid the awkward problems of breakups and jealousy, that kind of stuff. You put a new twist in the dynamics.”
“If it helps, I’m not interested in a casual fling. I’ve liked her for a long time, and seeing her again after all these years…This seems like the right time to find out if she’s the girl I want to get serious with.”
Winston nodded as he entered the pub, holding the door open for Winston. He aimed for a table in the corner. “I’m thinking of selling.”
The waitress interrupted Barrett’s opportunity at an immediate response. “What can I get you to drink?”
Holding up two fingers, Winston ordered. “I’ll have a draft. That okay, Barrett?”
“Sure.” Barrett waited for the server to head to the bar before he picked up where they’d left off. “Because of me, or because you’re planning to ask out Rory?”
“Not really. It’s more complicated than that.” Propping his elbows on the table, Winston blew out a noisy sigh. “I don’t want to go into details, but I can’t live there anymore.”
A dozen possible explanations ran through Barrett’s head. “If it isn’t me or Rory, then it must be Miles. Did he decide to make a move on her?”
“No. Oh, I don’t know.” Winston was silent as their beers were delivered. “Can I get a burger, medium well, cheese, everything but onions? Fries.”
Going for simple, Barrett opted for the same. “Make it two.”
The waitress jotted down their orders and then headed across the nearly empty room.
“Look, I’d rather you didn’t tell Rory, but I’m moving out because of Miles. He isn’t the person I thought he was, and I need out.” Winston’s knuckles turned white as he clasped his hands together, telling Barrett the problem was bigger than a simple misunderstanding.
“I thought you guys were friends. You sure ganged up on me together last night.” Okay, really bad choice of words. “You both gave me hell over Rory. If he’s a jerk, then don’t you think I deserve to know?”
Winston mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. “I doubt you have anything to worry about.”
Tipping up the frosty mug, Barrett drank a hefty swallow of beer. S
omething major had happened between the time he and Rory had left Winston’s apartment after the poker game and when he got invited to lunch. “How can you be sure?”
Rubbing his temples, Winston closed his eyes for several seconds. He lowered his voice to a hair above a whisper. “Unless you bat from both sides of the plate, you have nothing to worry about.”
Both sides of the plate? Like a switch hitter?
Did he mean what Barrett thought he meant, or had the image in the shower made the subject stick in his mind? He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.” Winston drained a third of his drink in one pull.
Miles was bisexual? Had he come on to Winston? After eight months of living and working in the same building with each other, how had Winston not realized his neighbor liked men in addition to women? Rory’s question about recognizing if a guy was straight or gay came roaring forward. “Wait a minute. You guys have been…you know, together? You’re both bi, and he dumped you?”
Pushing back in his chair, Winston looked up toward the ceiling. “Fuck! How the hell did you get all that out of the baseball euphemism?”
Barrett’s insides twisted into knots. Either he’d hit the nail square on the head or he’d jumped to an asinine conclusion, and both possibilities had consequences he didn’t want to deal with. He shrugged, unsure how to respond.
Winston leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. “Damn, I bet Rory’s figured it out by now too. Facing her every day will be harder than admitting the truth. I’m meeting with the real estate agent Monday evening to put my part of the co-op on the market.”
The waitress strode toward them, the tray of food perched on her shoulder. She set their lunch in front of them. “Two burgers and fries. Need anything else?”
Ready to dig in to his lunch and avoid more conversation about being bisexual, Barrett shook his head. “Looks good. Thanks.”
Before she’d taken three steps toward the bar, he and Winston had both stuffed their burgers into their mouths. A dozen questions begged to be asked, but Barrett had no intention of confiding in anyone about his sexuality—especially a man he’d fantasized about. Knowing how long Winston had openly acknowledged his attraction to men wouldn’t help Barrett. He wasn’t ready to talk about it. Besides, he had his sights set on Rory, and being with her meant he’d never have to figure out the workings of a male-male relationship.
Other than a few generic observations about the quality of the food, they ate in silence. They lingered over a refill of their drinks, and Winston immediately picked up the paper when the waitress finally brought the check.
“I owe you, Barrett.” He dropped several bills on the table as he rose. Leading the way outside, he headed back toward the co-op. “A lot of people would’ve gotten up and walked out after finding out what I am.”
That statement reinforced Barrett’s decision to keep quiet. “You’re a person. Who you want to have sex with is none of my business.”
Instead of turning left to follow the sidewalk to the entrance to their building, Winston continued straight ahead. “Too bad everybody doesn’t have that attitude. Miles won’t take shit from anybody about his lifestyle. But then, he’s always known and accepted being bi. I’m not there yet. Hell, you and Miles are the only people I’ve ever told, and now Miles is using me. He keeps saying he doesn’t want Rory to know about us. I think it’s just an excuse.”
Barrett’s chest tightened, a mix of panic, relief, and empathy swimming in his head. His first instinct was to invite Winston to his apartment. If Barrett had someone to talk to about his conflicting emotions, he might be able to come to terms with his gay side. Never having discussed the topic with anyone, he had no idea what was normal.
Turning onto a side street, Winston shoved his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I’m going to go out a limb here and ask you a question. I don’t want to offend you, but…I’m getting some strange vibes. And if you don’t want to answer, that’s fine.” He paused, facing Barrett. “Are you bisexual? Obviously, you’re not gay since you like Rory.”
Every bit of oxygen evaporated from Barrett’s lungs. Could the guy tell his sexual orientation by looking at him? Did his speech patterns or his body movements and gestures give away the truth? An athletic build and masculine facial features hardly hinted at less than straight, did they?
Winston began walking again. “Like I said, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
The urge to confess nearly drowned Barrett. How many times in his life would he get the opportunity to have an honest discussion about being a man who could love another man as easily as a woman? Once? Twice?
Lengthening his stride to catch up with Winston, Barrett waited until they were side by side to speak. “Yeah. I’m not really comfortable with it.”
“A newbie. Welcome to the club.” Winston changed direction, crossing the street and taking them closer to home. “More like welcome to where-the-hell-do-I-fit-in. I’ll let you know when I figure it out. It could be a few years before I know.”
“Miles was your first experience on the dark side?” Making light of the subject eased some of tension in Barrett’s neck and shoulders. “I haven’t…yet.”
“I kind of guessed as much. Right now, I’m sorry to say I’ve slept with Miles, but he was the first. Maybe the last for a while.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind talking about it.”
They strolled across their parking lot, and Winston punched in the security code to enter the building. “A piece of advice. When somebody tells you they want a casual relationship, that means they want sex without a commitment—whether guy-girl or guy-guy. Prepare to be used if you say yes.” He pulled open the door. “You want to come up to my apartment? I think you need an introduction to GLBT class.”
Chapter 6
Scuttling up the stairs, Winston only half expected Barrett to follow. The software genius was more likely to hide in his office than talk about being bisexual. He’d barely been able to admit it. Using the term “dark side” and saying “yet” at the end of his sentence probably meant he had no plans to fuck or get fucked by another man. Admission wasn’t acceptance.
Footsteps sounded behind Winston, and he rounded the landing to the second floor. At his door, he fished his keys from his jeans pocket and unlocked the apartment. “Have a seat. I’ll get the hard liquor.”
He aimed for the kitchen, leaving his guest to close the door and make himself comfortable—or as comfortable as he could be, considering the upcoming discussion. Grabbing a pair of shot glasses and the unopened bottle of Scotch he’d been saving for a special occasion, he returned to the living room.
With the drinks set up on the coffee table, he sat diagonally across from Barrett on the couch. “Down the hatch.”
Instead of tossing back a single shot, Barrett tipped up one after the other. He sucked in a long, shaky breath. “Sorry, but I think I need to get shitfaced to do this.”
Winston screwed the cap on the bottle. “I’m cutting you off. We’ll just have to have the same conversation over again if you’re too wasted to remember what I tell you.”
“I don’t want to remember.” Barrett buried his face in his hands. “If I live happily ever after with Rory, I don’t need to know anything about it.”
“Except you won’t live happily ever after with her by denying who you are. You’ll always wonder whether you should’ve found out more about the ‘dark side.’” Leaning back on the couch, Winston considered taking a swig of Scotch straight from the bottle. He was no more than a few steps beyond Barrett’s position regarding his sexual orientation. “I’m not saying you have to get laid by a man to find happiness with a woman. But love is love, and we don’t usually have much control over who we fall for.”
Pushing up from the chair, Barrett stomped to the door, his hand hovering on the doorknob. Tension rolled off him in waves. “I’m not in love with a guy. I�
�m in love with Rory.”
“Yeah, well, I’m in love with Rory and Miles, and I’m attracted to you.” The two beers had loosened Winston’s tight rein on his mouth.
Barrett swung around at the accidental confession, his panic evident in the quick meeting of Winston’s eyes and then a faster glance away. “Fuck.”
Too late to take back the truth.
Winston could only laugh. “You got that right. I’m screwed every which direction.”
Color reddened Barrett’s neck, and his grip on the doorknob tightened. He looked ready to flee the state.
Hope bloomed in Winston’s chest. That kind of reaction had to mean the attraction was mutual, and maybe getting dumped by Miles wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. “Sit down. I’m not going to jump your bones.”
“Unless I want you to, right?” That Barrett could joke about the dilemma suggested he might not be in full flight mode. He walked to the chair but didn’t sit. “I thought I was okay with being bisexual, but this whole thing—lunch with you, this discussion…It’s too flipping weird. I’ve never had a guy tell me he was attracted to me.”
Winston grinned. “I didn’t exactly plan on doing that. I figured we’d talk about how to deal with wanting pussy and cock instead of one or the other. The part that gets to me is fantasizing about having both.”
His guest’s jaw twitched. “I doubt many women would agree to let her boyfriend or husband have a boyfriend on the side. Fidelity is important to females.”
Opening the bottle, Winston poured himself a shot of Scotch. It went down smooth and warmed his insides. “The question is whether she’ll agree to share the boyfriend. Two bisexual men and one straight woman. Everybody wins.”
The Sextet Presents... Bound by Voodoo [Legends] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5