“Thank you,” Case whispered as his eyes were drawn back to the statue.
He turned to pull his chair out when a pair haunting green eyes had him trying to suck a breath into lungs that suddenly weren’t there.
He was there.
Not only was he there, but he was wearing skin-tight black leather pants, a black leather vest and, fuck, nothing else.
No shirt.
No shoes.
And no fucking sanity for Case Donnor.
“Restroom?” he managed to choke out to Jamie.
“Second door on the left,” he said as he pointed to the door that led out to the hallway.
Somehow Case managed to get his feet to move and he stumbled down the hall, knocking the door into the wall when he shoved into the restroom.
He staggered to the sink and dry heaved twice before managing to stop his stomach’s revolt.
He stood there, gripping the sides of the sink as he sucked air into his lungs.
He heard the door open and even though he knew who it was he still couldn’t manage to open his eyes.
“Please,” he whispered but he had no idea what he was saying please for.
He heard paper towels being pulled and the sink next to him turned on for a second.
And then he touched Case.
Just a palm in the middle of his back but it was enough have his body shivering and his dick rock-hard in his slacks.
“Shhhh,” Riott whispered as he touched the cool wet cloth to Case’s forehead.
“Please,” Case whispered again.
“Nothing bad is going to happen here, Case,” Riott whispered.
The moment his name left Riott’s lips, pre-cum shot out of Case’s dick leaving a wet spot that everyone would see, but he no longer had the energy to care.
Case’s eyes flew open and he spun around, cupping Riott’s face between his huge hands. Now it was Riott’s eyes that closed, it was Riott’s body that began to tremble, it was Riott who whispered, “Please.”
“Fuck,” Case groaned. He pressed his lips to Riott’s forehead and held them there for a moment.
“Please,” Riott whispered again.
Case pulled back and waited for him to open his eyes, “I can’t,” he whispered.
Riott frowned and then hurt washed over his face.
Case pressed his lips to Riott’s forehead again, “I can’t,” he repeated, “Not here, not in this place,” he pulled back and looked into Riott’s eyes, “You deserve better than this, Riott. You deserve so much more.”
Riott gasped and then tears filled his eyes and then he threw his arms around Case’s waist and pressed his cheek into his chest. “You are a good man, Case.”
Case’s hands cradled Riott’s head and back, “So are you, Riott. So are you.”
Riott pulled away and then his eyes went wide, “Oh shit! I got eyeliner on your shirt!”
He brought the wet towels up to clean it but Case grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Don’t,” he whispered, “I like knowing you were there,” he said and then, with one final longing glance, he walked past Riott and out the door, buttoning his coat as he did to hide both the wet spot on his pants and the black mark on his shirt.
Morgan frowned at him when he walked back inside but he shook his head once at him as he pulled his chair out and sat down.
He was okay.
He would be okay.
At least he hoped he would.
Fifty-One
Bellies full, they all stood and made their way out towards the door.
“Excuse me, Sir?” Jamie said as he put a hand on Case’s arm.
“Yes?”
Jamie held out a large box, “Um, I spoke to the artist and he wanted you to have this.”
Case stared at the box like it contained a bomb and then with shaking hands he reached out and grabbed it.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Morgan tried to get him to open it but he refused. Jaden and Colby begged to see it but he just smiled and said, “Nope.”
He said his goodbyes in Morgan’s driveway, promised to keep in touch and then buckled that box into the passenger seat to keep it safe on the drive home.
Once safely inside, he removed his coat, draped it over the back of the sofa, set the box on the coffee table and then sat down and stared at it…and stared at it…..and stared at it.
Eventually it dawned on him how stupid he was being and he reached forward and opened the top. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he swore someone could see it through his stained white shirt as he reached inside and pulled out the piece that had held his attention all throughout dinner. A white piece of paper fluttered to the ground as he set it on his table. He stared at the statue as he blindly reached down until his fingers closed around the paper.
He glanced down, read it, eyes snapped back to the statue and then he re-read it:
Is there really something more?
555 Montrose, third floor.
God, even his handwriting had a graceful elegance to it.
It didn’t surprise him when he realized who the artist was, somehow, he had known it was Riott the moment he had laid eyes on it.
The only question that remained was: what was he going to do about it?
********
“Can’t sleep?” Colby whispered into the pitch-black room.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Babe, the only reason I slept in the first place was because you fucked me until I couldn’t stay conscious anymore. But I know you, I feel you, and when you’re stressed, I’m stressed. What’s wrong?”
“I’m just trying to figure out where we go from here.”
“What do you mean, where we go?”
“What will we do for work? Where will we live? Are we staying together or do we get separate places until we’ve been together for a certain amount of time?”
Colby rolled over and cupped Jaden’s face, “First of all, fuck time-lines and fuck what anybody else thinks. My Ma jumped into bed with my Pa before she knew his damn name and they’ve been together thirty years. When something is right, it’s right. And you and I – we’re right. And as for work,” he shrugged, “how would you feel about running a B&B?”
“What?”
“The farmhouse. I think it would fit really nice into the area as a bed and breakfast. It’s right on the main road between the two big tourist draws, it’s big enough for us to keep the third floor for ourselves and have the second floor for guests, and maybe we could even have a small gallery displaying some of Westley’s work on the ground floor. What do you say?”
Jaden leaned up and kissed Colby, “I think it’s perfect, just like you. I say we do it. But are you sure? What about working for Morgan? I thought you still wanted to do that?”
Colby shrugged, “I want to be with you, Jade. I don’t care what we do as long as we’re together.”
Jaden hugged Colby tight. This man had not only found Jaden, he’d freed him, and he would forever be grateful for that.
Epilogue
Eight months later
“Your ass looks amazing in those pants.”
Row smirked as he looked across the crowded hotel room at King’s blushing face.
“Thanks man but you’re really not my type,” Quint said from his post by the door.
They’d hired Quinton Hade just six weeks after they’d opened the doors to Doyle Global Securities East and he’d been stellar since the first day – funny as hell, strong as an ox, smart and a great friend to boot.
King snorted a laugh and mumbled, “Dumb ass.”
“You love my dumb ass,” Row mumbled.
“I do. And I’m gonna marry your dumb ass too.”
“What?” Row said with a gasp.
“Dude, if that was a proposal, you suck,” Quint mumbled.
“You’re right. How about this, then,” he said and then he nodded at the young singer who had been their assignment for the last two weeks
, the one they had both complained was nothing but a spoiled brat. What Row didn’t know was that, after an epic breakdown one night a week ago, she and King had bonded. He’d comforted her, called her out on her horrible behavior and in return she had asked him about his life and what made him happy. When he told her, she’d insisted on setting something up for the last night they were all together.
She picked up her guitar and began strumming a song that Row and King knew very well. The first time they’d sung it to each other was during a drunken karaoke night when they were still in boot camp. It had since become their song.
The small crowd in the room split into two lines and began humming the harmony as King danced down the middle, making his way to Row as he sang with the words that they had modified just for them:
“You’re just too good to be true.
Can’t keep my eyes off of you.
You are like heaven to touch.
I want to hold you so much……”
Tears shimmered in Row’s eyes as he smiled when King reached him.
“What are you doing, you crazy bastard?” he whispered as he looked around.
King slid a black velvet box from his pocket and dropped down to one knee,
“Some people are lucky to find their soul mate. Others find the love of their life. And still others marry their best friend. I’m not a crazy bastard, I’m a lucky bastard because I found all three in one man. Rowan Taylor Bates, will you marry me?”
Row’s tears overflowed their banks and slid down his cheeks as he nodded and bent down to cup King’s face, “Yes,” he whispered just before he pressed their lips together.
The room might’ve erupted in cheers and applause but neither man knew it. They were both too lost in each other’s arms.
********
Case stepped up to the mirror by the door and straightened his tie. His eyes glanced, as they always did, to the piece of paper taped to the wall next to it.
Is there really something more?
555 Montrose, third floor.
Case knew what an epic failure he was for not going but, really, what could he have done? He knew there was something more….for other people. But not for him. He’d had his something more and it had slipped through his fingers no matter how tight he tried to hold onto it.
Damian had been everything to Case; his best friend when they were kids, his secret lover when they were teens, his boyfriend when they’d come out. Damian understood Case. He was the vitality and the energy where Case was the stoicism and the rock. Damian wanted to experience all life had to offer, immediately while Case wanted to take a wait and see approach. Together they balanced each other out…..until they didn’t.
Until Damian needed more than Case could give him.
Damian had gone off the deep end and he’d almost taken Case with him.
They’d been living together by then in a tiny studio apartment while they both went to University of Colorado, Denver. Case was planning on law school after graduation so good grades and studying were his life.
Damian wanted to go out clubbing every night. He needed to dance, he told Case, to dance was to live he said.
So, more and more he’d go by himself and then drag his exhausted body home, falling into bed every night smelling of smoke, booze and other things that Case refused to think about.
Case tried to ignore the signs, tried to push past his doubts. They had a rare night home together and Case tried to put the moves on Damian, kissing him like a man dying of thirst because he felt like he was.
And then Damian whispered something that shattered Case’s heart:
“You should probably put on a condom.”
“What?” Case said, the word feeling like it was ripped from his bleeding throat.
This was back in the days before PreP, before drugs that kept HIV in check and prevented AIDS.
Damian couldn’t make eye contact with Case as he said, “I’m positive, Case. Found out two months ago. I have AIDS.”
Six months later he was dead, taking his last breath with Case’s hand clutched gently around his. Yes, Case had stayed. He’d stayed despite his crushed heart, he’d stayed despite his shattered dreams. He’d stayed because Damian was all he knew, he was all he ever knew.
He reported for duty the day after graduation, after he’d tested negative for over a year and realized with certainty that he had dodged a bullet with that one. He studied for his law degree while in the service and became a military lawyer, which he loved….until he didn’t, because of the don’t ask, don’t tell bullshit.
He did his twenty and then rotated out at forty-one. That was four years ago.
He’d had sex with something other than his hand five times since the day Damian confessed to him. Five times in almost twenty-five years.
How are you supposed to move past that with someone else?
His eyes found that paper again and for a moment he thought about going.
“Naw. It’s too late,” he mumbled as he glanced at his perfectly straight tie.
It was too late.
Or was it?
His eyes flicked back to the paper.
God, what was he doing with his life? He didn’t have a single appointment today and yet he was so pathetic he was still going to the office.
It was too late.
His eyes found the paper again and he growled.
Stop it. It’s too late.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he grabbed his keys and yanked the door open.
Before he could change his mind, his shaking fingers plugged the address into his GPS and with one final deep breath he started up his car and backed out of his garage.
*********
Silas’s fingers shook as he brought his hands up to grip the top of his steering wheel. He was trying to stop himself from restarting his car, backing out of his parking space and going home.
Home was safe.
Home was dark.
Home was…….lonely.
That’s why he was here, right?
He’d been seeing CeCe for eight months now. At first, she’d come to his place, then they started doing Skype sessions as she tried to convince him to venture to his office for their chats, as she called them.
Today was the first time in almost a year that he’d left the house.
Panic had his forehead sweating, his pulse pounding. His head started to shake side to side, “Nope. Can’t do it,” he mumbled.
He shifted in his seat to turn the key in the ignition when something in his rearview mirror caught his eye. Something big, like fucking huge. He had no clue what the face looked like that was attached to the torso walking towards his car but at the moment he didn’t care.
“Damn,” he mumbled as he watched that deep blue pinstripe suit sauntered closer. The suit jacket was unbuttoned, giving Silas teasing glimpses of the firm torso barely hidden beneath the white button-up shirt. The thighs bulged with every step the man took. Those thick legs were spread slightly and as Silas’s eyes dropped a bit, he could see why.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered as he saw the outline of a thick, long cock bouncing from side to side like the arm of a metronome. No wonder the guy had to spread his legs. If his cock was that big it probably meant he had some big, ripe juicy balls that he was forced to make room for.
Suddenly being out in public didn’t seem so bad.
The man stopped next to Silas’s car, with his bulge perfectly framed in Silas’s mirror.
Silas touched the button to roll down his window. “I know it says objects in mirror are larger than they appear but damn, dude,” he said.
The man chuckled, a deep, sexy sound that flowed over Silas like liquid chocolate. “You here to see Dr. Peele?”
“I think so?” he mumbled, his nerves reappearing despite the hunk of man standing next to him.
The man pulled a phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear, “Hey, Brenda. Are there any patients in the waiting room? No? Good. Tell Cece her next appoi
ntment will be up shortly.”
The man returned his phone to his pocket.
“The only thing standing between you and her is that door and a receptionist,” the man said.
Silas stared at the office door.
Could he do this?
“I promise things will feel better, Quattro.”
Silas frowned, “Quattro?”
“Don’t know your name so I went with the car you’re in.”
Silas smirked as he glanced into his rearview mirror again to see the sleek, black, fast car parked behind him that blue suit had emerged from. “Well, to be honest, there are two things standing in my way.”
“Two?”
“Yep. That door,” he said as he pointed his finger over his steering wheel, “And your ginormous junk, Mustang.”
The guy snorted a laugh that Silas found completely adorable…and hot as fuck. Mustang took a step back so Silas could open his door – which he did, much to his surprise.
He stood to his feet turned around and dragged his eyes slowly up blue suit’s torso until he gasped, because staring back at him with a grin on his face, perfect white teeth, dark, sexy stubble covering his chin and jaw, a perfect jaw, high cheekbones, strong eyebrows and light green eyes that were full of mischief and…..understanding, was easily the most beautiful man that Silas Thorne had ever seen.
Oddly, he felt like he’d follow this man anywhere, and that shocked the shit out of him. If this man asked him for anything, Silas didn’t think he’d ever be able to tell this man no.
“I’m,” the man started to say but Silas held up his hand.
“No, don’t ruin the fantasy, not yet, Mustang.”
The man’s grin got even bigger, “You ready?”
“For you? Absolutely,” Silas said with a grin and a wink.
He was shocked to hear the man do a quick inhale, almost as if what Silas had said had…..turned him on? That wasn’t possible, was it?
“Come on, Quattro. Let’s get you to Cece.”
Mustang walked Silas inside, his hand not touching but hovering close enough to Silas’s lower back that he could feel the heat emanating from it.
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