Hearts and Flour

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Hearts and Flour Page 5

by Tara Lain


  They took their time. People came and went from the tables around them. Finally Micah started to put down his credit card, and Queen stayed his hand. “I told you. My treat.” He fished in his purse and came out with a platinum card.

  Micah shook his head. “I really appreciate it. I’ve never had anyone take me out before.” Just using and abusing boyfriends.

  “Really? Well, that’s something that needs to change.” Queen sat back in his chair and tasted a little wine. “I really like this choice and—oh my.”

  “What is it?”

  Queen nodded toward the area of the restaurant closest to the front door. “The man who just came in. I know him. Or maybe I should say I know of him.”

  Micah looked over his shoulder. Shit. Dharmaram and his lady friend. “Sadly, I know him too.” Micah turned back to Queen. “How do you know him?”

  A crease appeared between Queen’s fair eyebrows. “You first.”

  Micah sighed. “He’s my ex. The rat.”

  The blue eyes widened. “You’re joking?”

  “Not even.”

  Queen stared over Micah’s shoulder.

  “Well, call me amazed. Mary Beth was right.”

  “Mary Beth?”

  Queen looked startled. “Oh. Yes, well, uh, Mary Beth is my grandmother.”

  “How does she know Dharmaram?”

  Queen nodded. “Yes, that’s the name. He’s her yoga teacher.”

  Micah frowned. “Don’t worry. He’s actually a good teacher, even if he is pretty questionable in other ways.”

  “That’s what she said. She noted that he was now with a woman. Must be the lady he’s with tonight. But she said he used to be with a good-looking young man, that I now assume was you. Small world.” He sipped.

  “Actually, Laguna’s a small world. So is your grandmother the complexity you mentioned?”

  He sighed. “Very much so. She’s like my mother, and I guess you could say we take care of each other.”

  “What happened to your parents?”

  “They died in a small plane crash when I was just two. Mary Beth took over and raised me. She lost her husband before I was born, but she was well-off even before he died. And she’s added to that over the years with real estate purchases. Quite a feat for a dyed-in-the-cotton Southern lady from South Carolina.”

  Micah took a drink of water. “Why are you here instead of South Carolina?”

  “Her choice. She said it was for her health, but I’m starting to wonder about that.” Queen glanced again over Micah’s shoulder. “By the way, your ex-friend is staring intently at us. Funny. He also stared at me when I went to pick up Mary Beth, but, of course, I looked quite different then.”

  “He’s probably wondering what I’m doing with a woman.” Micah laughed. “It couldn’t have been a snap being gay and, uh, a fan of women’s clothes in South Carolina.”

  Queen raised his finely arched brows. “It certainly was not.”

  “Maybe that’s why your grandmother wanted to move here?”

  He waved a hand in front of his face. “Oh my, no. Mary Beth knows nothing of my proclivities.”

  “Proclivities? You don’t mean you’ve never told her you’re gay?”

  He nodded. “I do mean.”

  “Well, hell, Queen. How do you manage that?”

  “Very carefully.” But hurt reflected in his eyes. “The yoga teacher’s still staring. His lady friend must be livid.”

  Micah put his hand over Queen’s. “How about we leave?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I can take you somewhere else.”

  He grinned. “Somewhere like your place?”

  Micah’s breath sucked in. “Do you want to come to my place?”

  Queen looked down at his manicured nails. “If you want me to.”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I want you to.” Micah took a last sip of wine. “Do you think I could see what you look like as a guy? It’s not essential. I love you just like this.”

  Queen lips curved softly. “You do?”

  Micah felt heat in his face. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  “I’m only teasing. I’m sure you will be getting a good look at my man parts one way or another.” He pulled a red shawl from his purse and settled it around his shoulders. “Yes, I’d love to go to your place, although I can’t be too late as I check on Mary Beth at night. Or perhaps I should say I come to her home so she can check on me.” Queen laughed.

  Micah leaned over near Queen’s ear. “The way I feel here with you, I don’t think you’ll have to stay late to satisfy both of us. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

  “Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.” He flipped the shawl over his shoulder and stood. Micah got up beside Queen and met Dharmaram’s wide-eyed stare full-on.

  Queen walked with swaying hips right past Micah’s gaping ex-lover. Micah nodded slightly toward Dharmaram and his bill-paying lady friend and sailed past them as well. That was weird, but the best part of the evening had just begun.

  Chapter Four

  MY STOMACH feels like a bag full of cats.

  Quentin walked into Micah’s charming Laguna cottage and took a deep breath. He might drawl a good game, but he wasn’t that experienced sexually. He’d played the role of the flagrant seducer at the party with Micah, and that was fun but not his true nature. Although Charleston had its gay population, Mary Beth was a prominent citizen there, and her grandson well known by association. He’d adopted the drag at first just to be able to go out with men and not be recognized. Then he’d found he really liked it. But his lovers were few. Mostly quick back-alley hookups with guys who had as much to lose as he did. “Will my car be okay parked in the driveway?”

  Micah grinned. “You mean will my neighbors talk?”

  “Perhaps that’s what I meant.” He laughed.

  “Sure. Not a problem.” He closed the front door. “Make yourself at home.” Micah put a hand on Quentin’s shoulder, and it flashed straight to his nether regions. Oh my, the boy is sexy. Micah took Quentin’s shawl and hung it on a clothes hook on the back of the closet door. “If you need the bathroom, it’s down the hall on the right.”

  “Your home is so nice.” Quentin looked around the small entry that gave way to a delightful old-fashioned parlor on the right and a formal dining room on the left. The kitchen appeared to be beyond the dining room. No open concept here—a house from another century. “How long have you owned it?”

  “A couple years. Come on in.” Micah pointed toward the parlor, and Quentin followed him in. The room had a thick rug covering the hardwood floors and a few pieces of older furniture. Everything was clean, if a little Spartan. The walls featured some art of whales and underwater creatures. Quite pretty, though unexpected in the old house.

  Quentin smiled. “Do you mind if I take my shoes off?”

  “I’ve got to admit I’m relieved you don’t find those shoes comfortable. They have to be torture.” Micah laughed.

  “Yes. Sadly, women suffer horribly for their art.” Quentin slipped off the pumps. Oh yes. Much better. How nice that Micah now looked down on him by a few inches. It made him feel—delicate.

  “Merwaor.”

  “Well, hello there.” A rail-thin tabby cat rubbed against his legs. “Who have we here?”

  “Miss Queen, may I present Furtwangler, fur person extraordinaire. But if you’re allergic or anything, I can put him away.”

  “Oh my, no. I love fur persons.” That earned him a big smile from Micah. Quentin knelt and scratched the cat under his slim chin. “Will he let me pick him up?”

  “Try it. He’ll scamper away if he’s not into it.”

  He slipped a hand under a very narrow belly and lifted. The cat turned in his arms and presented his undersides ripe for attention. “Ah, I understand. You’re a belly-rub lover.”

  “Belly-rub slut is more like it. He’ll love you forever.”

  “I like him.” Quentin sat on the long blue velour
couch and devoted attention to a prime belly rub. The cat purred like a motorboat. “What kind of name is Furtwangler?”

  “It’s the most rapidly disappearing glacier in the world. My Furtwangler is seventeen, and he was old when I adopted him from my mother, so he was already kind of skinny. Hence the name.”

  “What a great cat. I should get a cat like this.” He smiled up at Micah, and the guy’s expression was soft and sweet. Oh my.

  Micah pointed toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Quentin gave a little wink. “What have you got that’s organic?”

  “I might have some wine. I’ve got tea and some fresh juice I squeezed at noon today. Not first-class nutrition but still good.”

  Oh, the boy is so earnest. And so good-looking. That lean body, the full lips, that shock of hair that flopped in front of one eye. “The juice sounds wonderful.”

  Micah left, and Quentin concentrated on the fuzzy belly below him. The cat purred and licked his arm. “I wonder if Mary Beth would like a cat. Bet it would be hard to find one as great as you.”

  “Are you seducing my cat?” Micah sat on the couch and handed Quentin a glass of light yellow juice with no ice.

  Quentin accepted the glass. “He’s quite a grand cat, but I fear it’s not him I want to seduce.”

  Micah’s dark eyes gleamed. He set down his juice on the plain wood coffee table. “Oh, that’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Quentin put down his glass too without a taste, squashing the cat a little as he leaned forward. When he sat back, Micah captured his chin with strong fingers and closed his mouth over Quentin’s, letting his tongue slip in hot and deep. Oh my, yes. All the little touches and innuendoes at dinner translated into an instant blaze. Quentin’s hand wrapped around Micah’s neck, holding him closer.

  By rights the cat should have squalled and jumped away from this conflagration. Instead Quentin got a lick on his arm and a slow, slithering retreat. Apparently they were okay with Furtwangler.

  Speaking of okay, Quentin’s cock pushed so hard against his bikini panties they could bust the seams. No ball room for sure. He shifted, and Micah pressed a hand against his straining erection. “I think we’d better get you out of these tight clothes.”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Micah stood, his cock distending the front of his dark jeans. He extended a hand to Quentin and smiled. Quentin’s skirt showed full evidence of his harder-than-nails erection.

  Micah shook his head. “How do you wear women’s clothes without that big thing showing?”

  “I tuck it, but tonight I didn’t wear a gaff to hold it, so it escaped.”

  “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

  “It can be if I get an erection at the wrong time. But tonight I didn’t tuck too tight so my charming friend could break free as needed. Rather sexy, actually.”

  “Nothing is sexy next to you. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But I’m dying to see what the male version of you looks like.”

  Quentin dropped his eyes. “I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

  Micah put a finger under Quentin’s chin. “I don’t think anything about you could disappoint me.”

  “I hope that’s true.” He so did.

  Micah took both his hands and led Quentin out of the living room and down the hall to the room at the end. Sigh. His bedroom.

  Like the rest of the house, the room was pretty simple, but the bed stretched across the room with clean white sheets and a lovely deep blue-and-yellow comforter.

  Micah backed himself to the edge of the bed and sat, still holding Quentin’s hands. “May I see your other self now?”

  His smile was so sweet, no way Quentin could refuse, even though he was nervous as a cat in a rocking-chair store.

  He freed his hands from Micah’s and slowly unbuttoned the silk blouse. When it gaped open, he pulled it off, leaving him bare to the waist except for the padded bra. He dropped the blouse on the chair beside the bed, then reached back and unfastened his bra.

  When it came off, Micah’s eyes widened. “Beautiful.”

  Quentin grinned. “Why? There’s not much to see.”

  “Your chest is very masculine. Well muscled but boyish. So pretty.” Micah reached up and ran his hands over Quentin’s nipples.

  “Oh my.” The buds tightened in anticipation.

  Micah smiled and pulled back his hands. “What’s next?”

  Quentin giggled. “You’re enjoying this, I think.”

  “Oh my, yes, as you would say.”

  “Okay.” Quentin reached up and slipped his thumbs under the edge of his wig.

  Micah gasped. “Wait. I thought that was your hair.”

  “No. It’s just a very good wig. Shall I leave it on?”

  He shook his head. “No. No, I want to see.”

  Quentin glanced at him sideways. “You could be disappointed.” Funny how much he hoped Micah wasn’t disappointed.

  “No. I want to see.”

  With a breath, Quentin pulled the wig off. His own hair was so light, he didn’t have to cover it to wear the wig. As the wig came off, he shook his head like a dog in the water and his curls flew around his head.

  Micah’s smile spread like butter across his face. “I’ll be damned. How could you be prettier with your own hair? But you are.”

  Quentin’s heart beat fast. He’d never done this. He was Quentin or he was Queen. He’d never gone from one to the other with someone watching. “You say the sweetest things.”

  “They’re all true. But I’m pretty anxious to see the rest.”

  “It should be no surprise. You’ve seen it up close and personal, as I recall.”

  “Yeah, and I’d like to be even closer now.”

  “With pleasure.” He unfastened the waist of the skirt and pulled it off. He looked down and giggled. His cock would not be contained by the lacy thong he wore but had pushed up until it stretched above his belly button with the lace only covering his balls. “He seems a bit overeager.”

  “Sweet God, that’s sexy.” Micah’s voice was breathy. He dragged down his own fly and reached in to pull out an equally swollen member, all red-headed and shiny.

  Quentin stared at that inviting penis. Slowly he slipped down his thong and gave an extra wiggle to his hips as he did it. Micah’s eyes widened, and he pumped his cock. Oh good, the boy can’t wait. See how you like this, darlin’.

  Quentin waggled back and forth so his cock swung like a pendulum. He bent forward, picked up the skirt and panties, and flipped them onto the chair with his blouse, then stood with his hands at his sides. “Except for a little mascara and a touch of blush, this is pretty much me.”

  Micah’s hand stroked his own cock, and his eyes traveled over Quentin’s body. “I’ve never seen anything like you. So masculine and ladylike at the same time. So brazenly sexy and so innocent. You turn me on like a Ferrari ignition.”

  Queen grinned. “Ah, but doesn’t it consume too many fossil fuels?”

  Micah’s pumping got faster. “I feel like a damned fossil fuel that somebody struck a match to.”

  Quentin stepped closer. “Let’s not waste that lovely erection on mere masturbation, dear.” He turned slowly and bent over, peeking between his legs at Micah, then pushed his cock down and waggled it. “Yoo-hoo.”

  Micah burst out laughing, grabbed Quentin’s butt, and took a bite.

  “Oooh, he’s turned cannibal.”

  Micah swung Quentin by the butt onto the bed and pounced on him, driving gnawing teeth into the sensitive spot beneath Quentin’s ear.

  “Ooooh.” Quentin tried to wiggle away from the chewing, sucking, licking invader when Micah grabbed his dick and started stroking it. Instant heat. Yes! Just what he wanted. “Oh yes, please, do that.”

  Micah rolled to the side and licked Quentin’s open, panting lips as he stroked and twisted his throbbing cock. So sweet. The boy kissed him gently as a butterfly, but his greedy hands never stopp
ed pumping. It was like going to heaven and hell all at the same time—but who was complaining?

  Micah kissed him again, then pulled back. “Mind if I take a ride?”

  Quentin squeaked. “On me?”

  Micah kept pumping. “This thing is just so inviting. Want to fuck me?”

  Quentin never topped, but this wouldn’t exactly be like topping since he’d be flat on his back. “Okay.” The word came out on a long, slow breath.

  Micah clambered to the bedside table and pulled out condoms and lube. He fit a rubber on Quentin’s erection and then matter-of-factly started pushing lube into his own hole. “Time for a little flagpole sitting.”

  “Oh.” Quentin couldn’t stop squeaking.

  Micah threw a leg over Quentin’s hips, then rocked up onto his feet. Bull’s-eye. His hole gaped on full display with lube shining and dripping around it. A little maneuvering and he had Quentin’s cock pointed right at the target.

  “Wait.”

  Micah looked up. “What? Change your mind?”

  “Ohhh nooooo. I just want to watch. Go slow, darlin’. Go slow.”

  Micah licked his lips. “With pleasure.”

  Quentin could feel Micah’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t look up from where his own cock was pushed against that lovely, tight hole. Micah lowered—slow as a lazy day. Oh God, watching his own penis disappear into a hot universe of delights had to be the sexiest sight on earth. “Dear God.”

  “You like?”

  “Hard to describe how much.”

  Micah’s butt pressed against Quentin. Sweet heaven. “Micah, I’m all the way in you. Oh God, darlin’, it feels so amazing. Tight and hot. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

  “Just that best of all possible burns.”

  Quentin closed his eyes. “Oh yes, I know what you mean.”

  “I’m going to fuck myself on your cock, Queen. Fuck myself into oblivion. Hang on, baby.”

  Oh. My. God. Micah pulled up, and Quentin saw his cock reappear; then Micah slid down until it got swallowed in heat and friction so incredible he thought he’d explode from the balls out. Up and down. All he had to do was hang on, but his hips wouldn’t cooperate. They started thrusting up like a trip-hammer, meeting Micah’s hips on the way down.

 

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