by Lee Hayes
“Who was that masked man?” Cross asked as if the dancer was the Lone Ranger.
“When I find out, I’ll let you know. You need another drink?”
“Yeah, but let me pee first. Where is the restroom?” Lorenzo pointed to a set of double black doors on the other side of the bar behind the dance floor.
When he returned to the bar, Lorenzo had his drink waiting for him and passed it to him without words. Cross took a sip, leaned back on the bar, and turned his attention to the other stripper that was on stage.
After about an hour and a half, the show officially ended and the strippers climbed down from the stage and mingled with the crowd, continuing to work their bodies. Smaller stages were set up throughout the club so patrons could get a better view or they could go down to the VIP section for a lap dance.
Cross watched as Lorenzo danced his way back onto the floor. When Lorenzo tried to entice him to join him, he decided against the dance, opting instead to continue his cool pose against the bar. Then, without warning, Zeric appeared, as if by magic, and took his hand and led him to the dance floor before Cross could protest. Not a single word was uttered.
As they slid their way through the crowd to the center of the floor, Cross tried to locate Lorenzo, who had no doubt scurried into some dark corner with a new man of the hour or had made his way downstairs for a private show. Cross put thoughts of Lorenzo out of his head and focused singularly on the beautiful man who danced seductively in front of him. As the music enchanted them, the distance between them disappeared and Cross soon felt his suitor’s hands around his waist, pulling him closer and closer until no distance remained. They were pressed against each other and Zeric grinded his hips against Cross, who caught his thrust and threw it right back to him in a move so sexual they each felt the pangs of lust in their groins. Cross could feel Zeric’s heated breath on the back of his sensitive neck and he felt fire shoot through his entire body, weakening his knees. He pulled away, pretending to dance; in actuality, he had to break free before his body completely betrayed him.
The music and the flashing lights and the atmosphere and the sweaty bodies and the drinks blended together so sweetly. He suddenly felt young and free again—and more than a bit intoxicated, too. He closed his eyes and let the music control his motion. He was dancing and swaying and smiling seductively when Zeric grabbed him by the waist from the back. Cross took his hands and placed them on top of the hands until they interlocked. He was delighted that his dream lover had returned to him so quickly. Cross continued dancing with his eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the strong erection that was pressed up against his buttocks. He wanted to give in to temptation, to throw caution to the wind, and invite this man back to his place for a passionate session of powerful lovemaking. He wanted to let this man know what he was feeling; he wanted to confess his desire. He conveyed his deepest yearning without the clumsy use of words; his body, fully versed in the art of communication, could tell the story far better than his lips. He pressed himself harder and harder against the force that knocked at his back door and grinded into him so that any doubt about his desire was removed. He felt the softest lips press firmly against his neck as he released his final reservations about the rest of the evening. The kisses on his neck sent him into a sexual frenzy; he could feel his erection beating against his zipper, wanting—needing to be set free and given attention; he imagined himself ripping off Zeric’s clothes and going down on him right there on the dance floor, in front of a hundred voyeurs.
A few hours later, Cross had danced away his blues and had found the much-needed comfort of a man. Club dalliances usually didn’t lead anywhere, but tonight he was reconnecting with life and not looking for anything from anyone.
“Zeric, I have had a wonderful time tonight, but it’s time for me to go home.”
Zeric smiled. “So soon?”
“I haven’t been out this late in a long time.”
“I really don’t want you to go.”
Cross smiled.
“I know, but you see my friend over there?” Cross motioned toward Lorenzo, who was standing near the exit door playing with his phone. “He’s ready to go and I have to go with him.”
“How about I drive you home?” Cross raised one eyebrow. “I’m serious and I promise not to try anything. I just wanna keep talking to you.”
Cross decided to throw caution to the wind and take Zeric up on his offer.
CHAPTER 9
A pair of enraged eyes cut through the room like daggers. His snarl twisted his face, making it almost unrecognizable.
Carefully hidden amongst the thick crowd, Brandon had been watching Cross all night. He was always watching.
And, what he saw tonight made his blood boil.
The same man who only last night had thoroughly rebuffed Brandon’s attempt at seduction had left the dance floor where he had been caring on like a common whore with some man he had just met. Brandon held Cross in much higher esteem. Cross was a man of virtue, a man of pride, and as far as Brandon knew, Cross wasn’t one for Internet games, one-night stands or easy sex. He was above all that. If he was of loose sexual character, Brandon was certain he would have bedded him by now. Many, many times.
Yet, Cross was all up in some dude’s face, smiling as if the stranger possessed joy itself.
The rage that mushroomed inside Brandon was nuclear.
Brandon watched them leave the club together. Surely, Cross wasn’t going home with this dude, Brandon thought to himself; or worse still, Cross could be taking him back to his house so they could fuck in the bed in which Brandon had already spread his seed to lay claim.
Brandon continued to watch, just off in the distance, cloaked by shadows and hidden by the night. Cross and Zeric moved easily down the sidewalk with the dude Cross had arrived at the club with. Cross and his suitor were much too close and far too into each other for Brandon’s taste and for them to notice anyone watching them. Brandon picked up a brick that lay on the ground near him and fought the urge to run up to them and bash the dude in the back of the head and throw Cross into his car, but he decided against it. Too many people around.
But he remained determined and desperate to stop them from leaving together; he had to stop them from doing what men who met late at night in clubs did together when they went home together.
The thought of Cross in bed with another man drove Brandon to madness.
He crept over to his car just in time to follow them. He started his car, put it in drive, and was able to follow Cross, who got in a white Toyota with the dude, leaving the other dude behind.
While turning the corner to begin chase, Brandon had a horrible thought: what if they were going to have a threesome? The thought of that sent Brandon’s emotions into a tailspin. He had never seen the dude that Cross had spent most of the night with before Casanova arrived; he and Cross could be friends, ex-lovers, potential new lovers or friends with benefit—they could be anything. At this point, Brandon had no way of knowing.
As they drove into the night, more than anything Brandon hoped and prayed that Cross wouldn’t do something that would force Brandon to do something he might regret.
Brandon stayed far back enough to get a clear picture of where they were going and he didn’t make any aggressive moves to draw attention to his car.
They winded down Peachtree and headed toward the interstate. Traffic snarled along and a sea of red lights lit up the night. Anxiously, Brandon moved his head side to side, trying to see through and around the car in front of him, so he could keep his eye on the car. Soon enough, the traffic broke and cars resumed a normal speed and before he knew it, the Toyota had increased speed and burst onto the freeway in a blaze of glory. Not to be outdone, Brandon shifted gears in his muscle car and gave chase.
Exactly thirty-three minutes later, Brandon had his answer. They arrived on Cross’s street. Brandon’s anger had not subsided; in fact, it was growing. Brandon parked down the street and nervously stretched his n
eck to see what could be seen. As he peeped, he saw the car pull into the driveway and stop. Seconds later, he saw them step onto the pavement and walk to the front door.
Brandon yelled so loud in his car that it hurt his throat.
Now, he didn’t know what to do. He was determined not to let them get too comfortable and intimate, but he wasn’t sure how to stop them; he only knew that he had to do something.
He drove his car around to the side street and parked. He quietly got out of the car. He then raced down the street, being careful that his feet didn’t make too much noise when they hit the pavement. He darted between parked cars and hid behind bushes and finally made it to Cross’s backyard. He hoped he could get into the house the same way he did before. When in the yard, he moved stealthily to avoid detection. He was more than thrilled to find the window unlocked. Slowly, he raised the window so that he could slip inside. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got inside. The only clear thought he had was to prevent them from having sex.
The room was dark.
As he peered inside, he could see the faint glow of light from the hallway. Brandon panicked. If they hadn’t turned on the lights, they might already be doing it. He prayed that he wouldn’t catch them in the act because, if he did, he could not be responsible for the outcome of the evening.
He slipped inside.
He had barely enough light to see the shapes of objects in the room, but he remembered where items were placed.
He crept slowly like a predator.
He moved closer to the door and stopped when he heard voices—they were in the den laughing and talking. Brandon peeped around the corner and saw them hugged up on the sofa. Then, he watched this stranger lean in and kiss his man. Brandon wanted to scream but suppressed the sound before it came out. He wanted to burst into the room and throw some blows upside the dude’s head.
He held in his horror and watched.
The kiss lingered.
It wasn’t a simple peck on the lips, but a full-lipped, deep-throated kiss designed to ignite the loins. There was no way in hell Brandon was going to let them consummate their young relationship.
Then, he heard Cross’s voice. He couldn’t make out all of the words, but it sounded like Cross was sending him home.
Yes! Cross told him that he had had a great time, but he was really tired and needed to rest. The man asked if he could stay but, after some hesitation, Cross said no. Then, he heard Cross making a date with the man for the next evening.
Hell. Fucking. No.
Brandon continued to listen, to be certain Cross didn’t change his mind and invite the man to their bed. When Brandon was convinced that Cross would hold firm in his decision to send the man away, he slipped out of the house the same way that he had entered.
Even though nothing had happened between Cross and this mystery dude, Brandon remained incensed that this man had the audacity to step in and try to claim what had already been claimed. And, just because they didn’t go all the way, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t tomorrow. Or the next night. Or the night after that. Sooner or later, Cross might give up something that Brandon believed belonged exclusively to him.
Brandon raced back to his car and drove around the block. He had to be certain that the dude was going to leave. When he came around the corner, the car was still in the driveway. He hoped that in the five minutes it had taken for him to sneak out of the house and get to his car that Cross hadn’t changed his mind.
After an uneasy ten minutes in the car, Brandon saw the man practically skip to his car. He snarled again; he guessed that the bounce in his walk was due to stealing another kiss from Cross. The man got into his car and pulled out of the driveway.
Brandon followed.
He had to end this before it even started.
The first rule of love is to eliminate the competition.
His heart pounded as he watched the red brake lights on the Toyota.
The Toyota was the only other car on the road, so it wasn’t too difficult to follow the crimson brake lights in the dark of night. Brandon didn’t turn his lights on, but used the light from his prey to guide him. He hung in the background and navigated the narrow and curvy streets of Cross’s neighborhood. He followed the car down a steep hill, around a sharp corner and up an even steeper hill. As he drove, he felt powerful under the cover of darkness. The immutable grasp of the darkness seemed to swallow everything in its entirety. Trees, houses, cars, and even the road itself, were all devoured by the night. The man’s headlights managed to cut small slices into the night, but his beams could not compete with the vastness of the darkness.
He followed the car until it turned suddenly into the parking lot of a 24-hour convenience store. Brandon slowed down and watched his competition pull into a parking spot and step out of the car as if he was the shit.
Brandon had never been one to shy away from a little competition.
Brandon turned into the parking lot from a different entrance and parked near the air machine. He left his engine running and shifted his body so that he could view the man through the windows. He kept an attentive eye on the man as he moved throughout the store. Brandon stretched his neck and tilted his head, trying to maneuver himself into a position to ensure that he didn’t miss a single move that the man made.
He watched the man approach the register and drop some items onto the counter. As he waited for the man to leave, his anger grew again. He thought about him touching Cross.
Flesh against flesh.
Lips against lips.
Tongues snaking around each other.
Hands exploring peaks and valleys.
By the time he snapped out of his trance, the man had gotten back into the car and was backing out of the spot. Red brake lights signaled his imminent departure as Brandon lay in wait. Once the man maneuvered into the street, Brandon resumed his slow pursuit. As he followed, Brandon was consumed by thoughts and visions of lust and became enraged. In his mind’s eye, he could see that man and Cross going at it like old lovers.
As the man followed the sharp contours of the darkened road, Brandon squeezed his steering wheel so tightly that the veins in his hands throbbed. As he turned around the next bend in the road, Brandon’s nostrils flared and he pressed harder and harder onto the accelerator until he was within inches of his prey. He turned his high beams on so as to cloak his dark intentions with light. He could see the man shifting his head and looking into the rearview mirror in an attempt to get a glimpse of the driver behind him. The man tapped his brake lights a few times as a warning to Brandon, but he did not relent. He could not allow—would not allow—any man to lay claim to what was already his, in his head.
Brandon rammed his car into the back of the man’s vehicle with such force that he saw the man’s head snap forward. He could still see the man peering into the mirror as he accelerated. Brandon stayed hot on his trail as they rounded the next bend. When they rounded the curve, Brandon clipped the side of the man’s car hard enough for him to lose control and careen over the embankment and down a steep ravine. The sound of the car crashing and rolling over several times filled Brandon with joy.
In the dark Georgia night, there was no one around to hear Zeric scream.
CHAPTER 10
On Monday morning, when Cross arrived at the high school, he still felt unsettled and slightly on edge due to a highly unusual weekend. He had hoped to spend a nice Sunday afternoon with Zeric, but Zeric had never called or returned his call. Cross wanted to get angry but didn’t; being stood up simply played into his distrust of men and Zeric’s behavior was typical of many men Cross had met before. He surmised that because they hadn’t had sex the night before that Zeric had quickly moved on. He couldn’t deny that he was somewhat disappointed; it wasn’t that he was looking for anything long-lasting from Zeric, but he did like the emotional excitement he felt and hoped that it would last a bit longer. Clearly, it was not meant to be.
Without the distraction of Zeric
on Sunday, Cross was forced to confront his thoughts about Brandon. He had spent much of the weekend wrestling with himself over the proper course of action to take in regards to Brandon. In part, he wanted to pretend as if nothing had happened and to go on with his normal routine, but another part of him needed to have a conversation with Brandon. He didn’t want to further inflame the situation by making it an even bigger deal, yet he knew that he couldn’t simply ignore what had happened. Cross understood how difficult it was being a teen; especially a gay teen, and how feelings can become blurred. He wasn’t quite ready to go to the school authorities, out of fear that Brandon would do something extreme. He felt he owed it to Brandon—and gay kids like him—to provide some support; he knew the pain of struggling with sexuality identity at a young age.
As he made his way down the hallway, he saw Brandon standing off in the distance, leaning against the row of lockers as Sheila, his ex-girlfriend, smiled in his face. As if they could sense each other’s presence through the roaring sounds of high school, Brandon immediately looked up toward Cross. Their eyes connected quickly and uncomfortably and Brandon looked away awkwardly, opting to focus on the girl in front of him.
Cross continued down the hall, passing Brandon but not daring to look directly at him, and moved into his classroom. He immediately walked over to his desk and dropped his bags into his chair. He exhaled. His energy level was scattered, almost manic, as he tried to calm himself. This situation had taken him far out of his element and that was an uncomfortable place for Cross, who prided himself on always being in control of his life and his emotions. Suddenly, his carefully crafted world seemed to unravel under the weight of this terrible burden he carried.
Cross was far from naïve. He realized the explosive nature of this volatile situation. If it was handled wrong, it could blow up in his face; yet, he wasn’t terribly concerned about losing his job since he was financially secure. He was concerned about what effect a scandal would have on Brandon. If word got out, the rumor mill would start grinding out stories of how they were involved in an illicit homosexual affair and someone so delicate might crack under the pressure.