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Foolish Me

Page 2

by Tinnean


  “Really.” For some reason that interested him. “Do you happen to remember his name?”

  “No. Sorry. You know I’m not into politics.”

  “What happened to the original tape?”

  I waved my hand vaguely. “It’s around here somewhere.”

  “Mind looking for it for me?”

  “Sure.” I couldn’t imagine why he wanted it. He’d never struck me as the kind of man who got off on porn, but I’d never questioned the preferences of my clients, and even if Vince wasn’t a client, it was still none of my business.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Uh….” I gnawed on my lip. I couldn’t stand the thought of Wills being willing to wash his hands of me. “You really think Wills was worried about me?” I should have been embarrassed by the hopefulness in my voice, but this meant too much to me. “I… I never even thought of that.”

  “Yeah, well, check with him before you start assuming you know what he’s thinking.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Had I been that wrong, or was I clutching at straws? “Oh, good luck with the condo. It really was pink.” Pink walls, pink carpeting, pink everything. I’d never known there were so many different shades of pink.

  “Thanks. It still is. If you have some time, would you be interested in overseeing the redecorating?”

  “I’d get to choose the colors and arrange all that neat furniture you bought? You bet!” Ever since I’d gone to Rockville with him and helped him select the furniture, I’d been itching to get my hands on it. And it would help distract me. “I’ll go to Home Depot and pick up some paint chips. Maybe I’ll pick up some power tools too. For Wills.”

  That should work. He’d loved the jigsaw his father had given him for his birthday in August. I’d give him a present, and he’d forget all about me having been a rent boy.

  “See ya, Vince,” I tossed over my shoulder as I hurried back into the apartment.

  Wills was in the kitchen, fussing with the coffeemaker. He refused to meet my eyes.

  “Here, let me do that before you break it.”

  He turned away, still not meeting my eyes.

  “Look, Matheson. I was what I was. I can’t change that.” I’d sell my soul if I could. “I’m sorry it’s got your shorts in a twist, but….” Please don’t leave me.

  He spun around and stared at me, and I swallowed hard at the anguish in his eyes.

  “D’you… d’you think I care two shits about what you did? What bothers me is how easily you…. You could have been killed, Theo. I… I saw—”

  The pictures in the newspapers? Yeah. They had been graphic and gruesome. After seeing the first newspaper, I’d thrown it out and refused to allow any of them in the house.

  “Oh, babe. I’m sorry. I thought….” I put my arms around him, and for a long moment he held himself stiffly. But then a massive shudder ran through him, and he wrapped his arms around me.

  “You thought I’d walk out of your life. I won’t. I’m not going anywhere, Theo.”

  I wanted to ask if he’d promise, but that was stupid, not to mention juvenile. Instead I cleared my throat and asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “You know what I really want? I want to go back to bed and pretend I never got out of it because it sounded like a machine gun was going off outside our front door.”

  We’d seen enough action movies to know what a machine gun sounded like. “Okay, then, let’s go. I was having a really good dream too. Maybe I can get it back.” I took his hand and led him back into the bedroom.

  “What was it about?”

  “You.”

  “Yeah?” A blush ran from midchest up to his hairline. He put his gun away, stripped off his sweatpants, and got back into bed. He patted the spot beside him. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  Chapter 2

  “WHAT’S THIS?” Wills asked when he came home from work one evening. On the console table by the front door was an invitation.

  “Want to go to a Halloween Ball, babe?”

  He looked interested. “Who’s this Charlemagne?”

  “He was voted Le Roi this year, king of the escorts.”

  “I take it it’s an honor to be invited?”

  “Yeah.” The paper was parchment, and the invite was stamped in gold leaf. I’d been Le Roi one year myself, and I knew how high the cost of those invitations could run. “But that’s not the reason I’d like us to go.” I wanted to show him off.

  “You do want to go? Hmm. I haven’t been to a Halloween party since college. Who will we go as?”

  “You’ll do it?”

  “Sure. As long as nothing comes up with work, it should be fun.”

  “Great!”

  “So, who will we go as?” he asked again.

  “I was thinking of going as Zorro.”

  “Awesome!”

  But he didn’t tell me what costume he’d be wearing.

  “I want to give it some thought, okay, babe?” he said.

  “Sure. Just don’t let it go too long. It will be a bitch getting anything decent then, and you’ll wind up wearing a generic costume.”

  “Like an orange T-shirt that says, ‘Halloween costume’? I won’t let it go too long.”

  “And promise you won’t wear those 501s and the tool belt! I’d be fighting ’em off all night long!”

  He looked happy. “I won’t. I promise.” He ran his hand over my hair, then dropped his hands to my waist and pulled me against him. He was hard.

  I remembered something his cousin Harry had said when we’d visited the family over the Memorial Day weekend. “Do you have a weakness for redheads, Wills?”

  “I have a weakness for this redhead.” His gaze was on my lips. He ran his tongue over his lips and leaned toward me. I closed my eyes, anticipating his kiss.

  The smoke alarm went off.

  “Shit!” We raced into the kitchen. “I hope I haven’t burned dinner!”

  “I’ll take you out if you have.”

  But it turned out I hadn’t. The smoke alarm had malfunctioned, and after dinner we took a ride to Home Depot and bought a new one.

  AFTER WE’D gone to bed and made love, and just before I fell asleep, I wondered if taking Wills to this Halloween Ball was really a good idea. Charlemagne was a redhead. Suppose Wills….

  I fell asleep before the worry could become full-blown.

  AS IT turned out, nothing came up at work on Halloween, and as Wills had promised, he got home early. He let out a soft wolf whistle when he saw how I was dressed, all in black, from the flat-crowned hat on my head to the knee-high boots on my feet. A sword hung at my waist, a cape hung from my shoulders, and a bullwhip hung from my belt. A silk mask covered my upper face.

  “God, you look hot enough to eat! I don’t want to muss you now, but later, when we get home….”

  “I’ll hold you to that. Now, go get yourself ready, handsome.”

  “Give me twenty minutes, babe.”

  Wills never fussed with himself. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair, but never made a big thing of getting ready.

  This time he ran over the time limit he’d set for himself, and I wondered what was taking him so long.

  “Um… Theo,” he called from the bedroom. “I’m… uh… I’m not sure about this….”

  “Come on out and let me see what you look like. If worse comes to worst, you can wear one of your suits and a pair of shades and go as a Secret Service man.”

  He gave a choke of laughter. “I don’t think so.” The Lone Ranger walked out of our bedroom. “I’m sorry, babe. I thought this was a good idea when I picked out the costume, but I didn’t realize these pants would be so… so tight!”

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his body. Dressed in pale blue except for black boots and a black mask, he made the perfect foil for my Zorro.

  The usual bland suits he wore had to be the reason no one had fucked him before me. Well, it was their loss, and
no one was getting a chance at him now.

  And Wills was right. His pants appeared spray-painted on. The holster belted around his hips framed the discreet bulge of his genitals.

  “Are you….” I cleared my throat. “Are you wearing underwear?”

  “If you could call it that.” He turned around so I could see his ass. “It’s a G-string.”

  I licked my lips. “So I see. It’s a good thing I’ll be armed.” Even though he wasn’t wearing those ‘lick me, suck me, fuck me’ jeans, I’d still be fighting off horny rent boys all night. I pulled out my sword, slashed the air with it, and went forward into a lunge. Then I straightened and put the sword back in its scabbard.

  “And you… you don’t mind that I look like this?”

  “I don’t mind, Wills.” Not much, at any rate. I tossed my cape over my shoulder, swaggered across the room to him, pulled him into my arms, and ran my lips along his jaw. One of my clients had been an undersecretary at the Spanish embassy, and I breathed Spanish love words into Wills’s ear.

  “Theo, that’s Spanish!”

  “I thought, as Don Diego Vega, that would be appropriate.”

  “You thought….” He slid his arms around me and took my mouth in a voracious kiss.

  He had a weakness for Spanish love words? I’d have to remember that.

  THE ANNUAL Halloween Ball was being held this year at the William Henry Harrison Hotel, just down the road from the Madison Arms. The ballroom was smaller, but since it wasn’t a night off for all the boys, the crowd wouldn’t be as big.

  When we walked in, the orchestra leader took one look at Wills and signaled his horn section. They began to play the “William Tell Overture.”

  Wills touched the mask over his eyes. Apparently secure that his disguise was in place, he grinned and let out a breath. “This looks really nice, Theo.”

  Orange and black draperies hung from the walls, and pinned to them were cutouts of bats and black cats, ghosts and caldrons, witches and warlocks.

  “Excuse me for a minute, babe.” He walked off, and I stared after him, enjoying the bunch and flow of the muscles of his ass.

  Before I could go after him, I was distracted by the approach of an angel. Tall, well-built, blue-eyed, blond… his tunic was blindingly white, and a massive golden sword hung at his side. An amazing costume, capped by white wings that rose above his head, the feathers tipped with gold. He had to be new to the area, because I didn’t recognize him.

  “Señor Zorro.” He gave a slight bow. “I am the Archangel Michael. His majesty would like to see you.” He gestured toward where Charlemagne stood, surrounded by his court.

  Charlemagne was dressed as the Prince of Darkness, from the pointy little horns on his forehead to the red suede boots on his feet. Who would have thought someone with his hair coloring could carry off all that red?

  Wills rejoined us. “Ranger, this is Michael.”

  Michael ran his gaze over Wills. I slid an arm around my lover… my lover. This Michael could just find his own.

  “And your friend, of course.”

  “Your friend of course… what?” Wills was only mildly curious.

  “A command performance before Le Roi.”

  “Pardon me.” Michael gave a slight bow and crossed the floor toward the door. His movements were smooth and graceful.

  “Babe?”

  I shook my head and turned to Wills. “Time to meet Chuckles.” No time like the present to see if Wills was drawn to Le Roi’s red hair. “Come on, babe. I’ll introduce you to him.”

  I was concentrating on his reaction to Charlemagne and failed to notice the werewolf who staggered up to us and threw his arms around me.

  “I love a man wearin’ a mashk.” He planted a slobbering kiss on my mouth. Although it was early in the evening, I could almost get drunk from the alcohol fumes on his breath.

  The ballroom was noisy, but I had no trouble hearing the click of a pistol’s hammer being thumbed back.

  “It might pay for you to remember that the bullets in the Lone Ranger’s gun are silver. Let him go, werewolf.” Wills was pointing the gun at the werewolf’s head.

  “Uh….” The werewolf blinked owlishly, staring down the barrel of a Colt .45.

  “What don’t you understand about let him go? Find someone else to kiss. Zorro is mine.”

  I took the werewolf’s arms from around me and then stepped away from him, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

  “Shorry. There’s no need to be shelfish. Jus’ wanted a li’l kish.”

  “Someone get Jay out of here.” Charlemagne had approached without any of us realizing it. Well, maybe Wills had. He didn’t seem surprised.

  “That’s Jay? Oh, my God, I’m gonna be sick!”

  “Want me to shoot him, babe?” Wills asked.

  “Please, not here.” Impatience colored Charlemagne’s words. “Since the new people took over, it was hard enough to persuade the management to let us hold the Halloween Ball here.” He let his gaze drift over my lover. “So, you want to introduce us, Zorro?”

  “This is the Lone Ranger, Mephistopheles. Ranger, this is…”

  “The Devil.” Wills holstered his pistol. “Your majesty.”

  “I don’t recognize you.”

  “He’s wearing a mask,” I growled.

  “Even with the mask, I’m certain I would recognize a body like that.” Chuckles leered at him, and a flush ran up Wills’s cheeks and disappeared under his mask.

  I clenched my hands into fists. I’d never been so tempted to punch Charlemagne’s perfect nose.

  “Would you care to spend some time at my table? I’m sure I can interest you in… walking on the wild side. After all—” He glanced across the room to the entrance, where Michael stood, watching him. “—if I can convert an archangel….”

  “No, thanks. I’m here with Zorro.”

  Charlemagne regarded him thoughtfully. “And you go home with the one you came with?”

  “Right.”

  My mask didn’t conceal my grin. “If you’ll excuse us?” The orchestra was playing “Isn’t It Romantic?” Had he gone to ask them to play it? I took Wills’s hand and led him to the dance floor.

  I twined the fingers of one hand in his while I kneaded his hip with my other hand and drew him closer, and we began to move across the floor.

  WILLS LOOKED at his wristwatch.

  “Is it time to go?” I asked. We’d agreed to leave a couple of minutes before midnight, just before everyone would unmask. He had work tomorrow.

  “Yeah. Are you sure you don’t want to stay? You’re having a good time.”

  “Only because I’m here with you. Let’s get our goody bags and go say good night to Le Roi.”

  We went back to our table and gathered our bags and my cape, which I’d removed when I’d found it made dancing difficult.

  The Prince of Darkness was in earnest conversation with the Archangel Michael. He glanced around at us. “You’re not leaving already?”

  “We have to go. The Lone Ranger has to be up bright and early in the morning catching bad guys.” I didn’t think it was that funny, but Wills bit back a snicker.

  Charlemagne ran his gaze over Wills again, and I wanted to pull out my sword and run him through. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in a trick or treat, little boy?”

  “I’ve got my treat, thanks.” He put his arm around my waist. “It was nice meeting you, your majesty. Sir.” He nodded to the man dressed as the archangel.

  “Bright blessings upon you, William. And you also, Teodore.”

  “Uh… thanks. Good night.” That was odd. But then Wills wound his fingers in mine, and I dismissed it.

  The doorman hailed us a cab, and we got in and gave the driver our address. It seemed almost no time before the cab was pulling up in front of our house. We got out, and Wills paid him. There hadn’t been a single wrinkle or bulge in his costume—except for his package, and I wondered where he’d kept his wallet.

&nbs
p; We climbed the stairs, and I let us into the apartment. “Did you have a good time, babe?” I yawned, tipped my hat back off my head so that it hung from its thong around my neck, and removed my mask. Wills did the same.

  “Yeah. Like I’d said, I haven’t been to a Halloween party since college. This was a lot of fun.” He frowned. “Except for that idiot werewolf who thought he could kiss you. What’s in the goody bags? Candy?”

  “Not exactly.” I pulled out the items one by one. “Whoever is elected Le Roi has his minions put them together. Condoms, flavored lube, cock rings, butt plugs….” His lashes hid his eyes for a moment, and he blushed. Would he consider wearing one? Oh, not to work, he was too professional for that, but maybe around the apartment? “Gift certificates for massages or to a hair stylist or restaurant or….”

  “A tie clip?” Wills had taken a small jeweler’s box out of his bag and opened it to reveal a black cat arched and hissing above words marked out in diamond chips: 87th annual Halloween Ball. 10/31/02.

  “Charlemagne always was a show-off.” Was Wills impressed by that—?

  “Wow. Eighty-seven years? Who’d have thought they’d be going on for so long?”

  I blew out a breath. So it wasn’t Chuckles he was impressed by. “Nothing stopped them,” I said easily, not wanting him to know how insecure I was feeling. “From what I understand, not even the First or Second World Wars, although attendance was sparse during those years.”

  “Makes sense.” He closed the box and put it back in his bag. “Are we gonna go again next year?”

  “You’d want to go?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s supposed to be for escorts, but it was fun, and if you don’t have a problem with it….”

  “No problem. Elections for the next Le Roi are in February.” And, boy, did that get cutthroat! “I’ll run it by him, but I’m friendly with most of the boys.” No, definitely no problem. It never failed to amaze and surprise, and yes, thrill me—he was looking to the future. I pulled him against me and rubbed my groin against his. “Trick or treat, little boy?”

 

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