by Wells, K. C.
“Dad, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you,” Blake began, a smile pasted on. “But I have a lot of work to do today, and not a lot of time to spend with you.”
Justin’s scowl was back. “Yes, and why do you still not have a PA? At least then, you’d be able to delegate some of the things you’re doing.” His scowl deepened. “And I’m pretty sure that team of yours could be doing more. What about that ruffian, Ed something, your so-called office manager? Can’t you delegate more work to him? Though what you see in him, I’ll never know. The man’s as rough as a bear’s arse.” The derisive note in his voice was suddenly too much for Blake to bear, and as for him denigrating Blake’s team….
“I’m on it, Dad. I’m interviewing a candidate for the position tomorrow.” He picked up the folder which contained all the details and brandished it at his father. “Will Parkinson: excellent qualifications, glowing references, seems ambitious—he looks perfect.”
Justin’s jaw dropped. “A man? You’re interviewing for a male PA?”
Christ, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. “Yes, Dad. You got a problem with that?” No sooner had the words left his lips, than Blake knew it was a mistake. Justin Davis bristled, his jaw clenched.
“Far be it from me to tell you how to run things, son…” his father began. Blake stared in frank astonishment. The man does nothing but tell me.
“Then don’t, Dad.” Blake watched as Justin snapped his head up, eyes wide. “I seem to be doing pretty well without your advice, don’t I?” Blake picked up the morning’s newspaper and turned to the financial pages. “We made ink again. Profits are up—again. And the new markets are proving to be a success.” He threw the paper down onto the desk, a gauntlet of sorts—if his father dared to pick it up.
Justin’s lips narrowed. “I can’t deny you’ve turned the company around, Blake.” Well, that was a first. “And starting up a department for translating books into other languages, well, it’s not an avenue I ever explored, certainly, but it seems to be paying off.” Justin’s eyes locked onto Blake’s. “But I can’t say I’m happy about this idea of yours of selling these…male/male books.” His mouth twisted as he spoke, as though the words themselves left a nasty taste in his mouth.
Blake gave his father a patient smile.
“Have you even looked to see just how much business those books are bringing in? Gay fiction is a huge market, Dad… and it’s a genre that’s growing more popular all the time.” It was clear from Justin’s expression, however, that this argument cut no ice, and for a second, Blake’s gut twisted. If his father felt this way about gay fiction…. Blake waited to see if his father would add anything, but Justin kept silent.
Blake walked toward the door and opened it. He turned to his father.
“Thanks for stopping by, Dad, but I really do have a lot on for today.” He smiled, hoping that Justin would take up the hint. To his relief, his father gave a brisk nod and made his way to the door. As he passed Blake, Justin’s eyes met his.
“Happy Birthday, son.” He paused. “Will you be seeing Melissa this evening?”
Blake kept his face straight. “No, Dad, not tonight.”
Justin’s expression revealed his disappointment. “Oh.” He obviously wanted to say more on the subject, but after a glance at Blake’s face, seemed to change his mind. Nodding once more, Justin filed past his son and out of the office, Blake watching from the door as his father exited the floor. He let out his pent-up breath in a long push of air.
Closing the office door behind him, Blake sat down behind his desk and leaned back into it. It had been tough growing up without a mother. Blake and his father had muddled on as best they could since her death from lung cancer when Blake was thirteen, but theirs had not been a close relationship. The two men were nothing alike. When Blake first realized he was gay at the age of sixteen, he’d fought against the very idea. He already felt alienated from his father—there was no way he wanted yet another thing to expand the yawning chasm between them.
As to what made him hide his sexuality? Vivid memories of when his uncle Dominic came to visit. Dominic was his mother’s brother and not one to hide the fact that he was gay. All Blake knew was that his father hated Dominic, and that was enough to keep him in his warm, safe closet for the foreseeable future. Dates with Melissa so far had been briefs forays to clubs and a couple of dinners. Certainly nothing intimate. Blake was hoping she’d get the message and give up, the same as all the would-be girlfriends his father had organized in the past. So far not one of them had commented on the fact that Blake hadn’t made a move to get them into bed. And as long as it stayed that way, Blake was happy.
Blake took out his phone, scrolling through to find Jenny’s number. He stared at it for a second, his thoughts conflicted. It had been a while since he’d required Jenny’s specialist services, but right now, he needed. God, how he needed…
His mind made up, Blake called the number, smiling as he heard Jenny’s voice on the other end. Jenny always sounded as though she was smiling.
“Hi, Jenny, Blake Davis here.” Blake was happy that he didn’t have to hide with Jenny: the woman was discretion personified. Well, in her line of business, she needed to be.
“Blake!” He could hear the note of delight in her voice. They’d progressed from ‘Mr. Davis’ to ‘Blake’ over the course of the last two years, and Blake could now chat easily with her. “What can I do for you?”
“Please tell me you have someone available for tonight?” Blake couldn’t quite keep the desperate tone from his voice. Jenny chuckled in his ear, as he heard the click of her nails on the keyboard.
“Happy Birthday, by the way.”
Blake laughed. He shouldn’t have been surprised Jenny knew it was his birthday: she obviously prided herself on providing an excellent service for her clients, and knowing little details like birthdays added the personal touch. “Thanks, Jenny.” He waited, more clicking audible at the other end of the line. At last he heard her sigh of satisfaction.
“Ooh, you’re going to like this one.” There was a gleeful note in her voice that sparked Blake’s interest. “He’s new on my books, been with me about three months. But he seems to be proving very popular.” Christ, had it been that long since he’s used Jenny? Blake shook his head in disbelief. “I take it you’ll be requiring his more personal services, rather than as an escort?”
Blake snorted. “Come on, Jenny. How long have I been using J’s? Do you even have to ask?” He heard her giggle. “What’s his name?” he inquired. “And can he be at my place for about eight this evening?” Blake crossed his fingers.
“His name’s Alec, and yes, he’s available for that time. Usual rate, okay?”
Blake grinned. “Yeah, that sounds fine, Jenny. Thank you. You have my card details, don’t you?” Jenny assured him she did, and finished the call. Blake sat back in his chair, his mind suddenly on Alec and the prospect of having him in his bed. His cock twitched. Yeah, it had been far too long….
Chapter Two
Blake took a last look around his apartment, checking that everything looked presentable, before glancing quickly at his watch. Nearly eight. Blake had no idea why he was feeling so jittery: it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had escorts from J’s at the apartment before. Blake had discovered the agency by accident, as he’d overheard a conversation during one of his rare forays into a gay club. He liked J’s. Some escorts were purely that—escorts—and accompanied clients to events, no sex involved. But there were also those escorts who provided an altogether more…personal service, for which Blake was profoundly grateful.
The buzzer startled him from his train of thought, and he pressed the button by the front door. “Yes?”
A deep voice came over the intercom. “Alec here, to see Blake.”
Blake pressed the release button. “Hi. Come on up. Top floor, opposite the elevator.” He opened the front door and listened as the elevator whirred into life, humming quietly. Within a minute the d
oors slid open…and Blake caught his breath.
Out stepped a man who Blake could only describe as gorgeous. About Blake’s height, 5”11, and a similarly slim build, Alec had short, brown hair and eyes the color of milk chocolate. Blake estimated his age to be somewhere in the mid-twenties. He wore a dark tan leather jacket over a black T-shirt and sinfully tight black jeans, his trainers fashionable. He carried a duffel bag over one shoulder. Those warm brown eyes regarded Blake with frank appreciation.
“Well, hello there.” That rich voice played havoc with Blake’s cock: he felt it twitch in anticipation. There was definite amusement in Alec’s tone. “Can I come in?” The ghost of a grin played about his features.
Blake realized he’d been staring. Flushing, he stepped to one side. “Forgive me: please, come in.” He inhaled slightly as Alec walked into the apartment, brushing past him. The man smelt divine, a woodsy aroma that definitely spoke to Blake in no uncertain terms. Hmmmm…Happy Birthday to me…
Alec looked around the hallway, clearly waiting to be told where to go. There was a confident air about him that appealed to Blake: the man seemed at ease with himself. In fact, Blake envied him. He’d give anything to have such confidence.
“Come into the lounge.” Blake indicated the door with his hand and Alec led the way into the warm room, glancing around him in obvious appreciation.
“This is nice,” he murmured. Blake smiled. The only people who visited his inner sanctum were escorts from J’s: his father had never been invited in all the four years since he’d first bought the apartment. He watched as Alec’s gaze took in the large, comfortable-looking leather sofa, the thick, warm rug in front of it, and the gas fire which looked like the real thing, set into the wall. Blake liked the minimalist appearance of his home: there was little clutter, and the color scheme was a palette of muted shades, accented by splashes of color in the form of deep red cushions here and there, and a print above the fire, an abstract sunset in gold, oranges and reds.
He heard his guest let out a small gasp, and turned to see Alec staring at the expanse of wall opposite the fireplace. Blake grinned: he’d wondered when Alec would notice. Yet another reason why his father would never be invited here… Alec’s eyes roamed over the four large prints which were hanging there, evenly spaced apart. Black and white, dramatically lit, they depicted the nude male form in what could only be described as provocative poses, although no faces were evident. In one, there was the curve of a man’s nude back, where the eye was naturally led down to the firm globes of his arse. In another, a white sheet was pushed low, barely covering what was clearly a very erect dick. In the third, the model was stretching upward, the wide chest and firm abs leading the eye down a treasure trail to the base of his bare cock, giving only a teasing glimpse.
The fourth was Blake’s favorite. It was as if the camera had caught the model on the point of orgasm, his back arched up from the bed of white sheets, muscles taut, his hand around his shaft, hiding it from view.
“Wow.” Alec spoke softly. He turned to face Blake. “These are magnificent.” His gaze moved over Blake’s frame and suddenly Alex’s eyes widened. “They’re of you.” He grinned.
Blake stilled. “That’s…that’s very observant of you, considering how little of me you can actually see. In fact, you’re the first visitor here to realize that.” Alec returned to his admiration of the prints. “They were taken by a friend of mine, a very good friend, in fact. He’s a professional photographer and we were at university together.”
Alec was nodding, his gaze never leaving the four prints. “He has an excellent eye.” He broke off from his observations to glance at Blake, his expression quizzical. “You must have been very at ease with him to be able to model like that. Were you lovers?”
Blake burst into a peal of laughter, causing Alec to smile. “Hell, no! Dave is as straight as they come.” He smiled fondly at the thought of his best friend. “But he was the first person I told when I finally stopped denying I was gay.” He felt his smile shift. “Not that I’m really out now.”
Alec gave him a sympathetic look. “Really?” Blake nodded. “’Cause I was wondering why in hell someone as gorgeous as you needed to hire guys from J’s. Surely you could just walk into any gay club and be inundated with offers.”
Blake’s heart beat a little faster. He thinks I’m gorgeous. Part of him had to wonder if it was merely a line. One look at Alec’s expression, however, made his breath catch in his throat. There was no denying the sincerity in that look. Blake gave a shy grin. “I don’t frequent gay clubs very often. Not that I ever did in the past, to be honest. It’s much simpler to do things this way.” Alec nodded in understanding. His gaze drifted over to the low coffee table where an ice bucket sat, a bottle of champagne chilling in it, alongside two champagne flutes.
“Ooh, champagne!” Alec grinned. “How nice.” His grin proved infectious: Blake couldn’t help but return it.
“Today’s my birthday,” he explained, “and it’s one of those birthdays.”
“Oh, Happy Birthday!” Alex looked down Blake’s body slowly, before returning to meet his gaze. “In which case, you’d better consider me your birthday present to yourself.” Alec dropped the duffel bag to the floor and turned to face Blake, moving slowly toward him.
Blake gestured toward the sofa. “Do…do you mind if we sit for a while and have a drink?” Alec’s eyebrows arched. “It’s just…I’d like to talk for a while, get to know you a little better, if that’s all right.” To his relief, Alec’s smile widened.
“Actually, I really like the sound of that.” Alec lowered himself onto the sofa, one arm resting over the back seat cushion, the other lying along his thigh. His eyes were on Blake as he sat down. “So, I have a few important questions, if you don’t mind.” It was Blake’s turn to raise his eyebrows, nodding in surprise. “Top, bottom, or versatile?”
Blake reddened. “You don’t waste time, do you?” he said, chuckling.
Alec shook his head, his easy grin matching Blake’s. “It pays to know these things in advance.” He locked eyes with Blake, and Blake shivered under the weight of that stare. “Well?”
Blake considered for a minute before answering. “Versatile.”
Alec chuckled. “You don’t sound entirely certain.”
Blake shrugged. “To be honest, most of the time, it’s me doing the fucking. But…. ” His words trailed off.
Alec smiled. “But you like getting fucked, don’t you? Though I can totally see why lots of men would want to be your bottom boy: you have this whole ‘I’m-in-charge’ air about you.” His eyes gleamed with lust. “Well, I’ve gotta tell you…I so want to fuck you. So if that’s gonna be a problem, tell me now.” That smile didn’t waver for an instant.
Blake found himself growing hot at the thought of Alec fucking him. It had been a while since he’d been fucked, and although his dick was already growing hard at the thought of sliding into Alec’s willing body, he could definitely see himself submitting to Alec. And judging by the expression on Alec’s face, Alec liked that idea too.
“I take it that’s not going to be a problem,” Alec said with a smile. “Excellent. So onto my next question. What do you like? Are we talking vanilla—not that I have anything against vanilla, you understand: sometimes a slow, sweet fuck is just perfect—or do you like things a little more…spicy?”
Blake’s already half-hard cock chose that moment to sit up and take interest.
“Spicy?” Oh, God, please… tell me Alec likes it rough…..
Alec reached for his duffel bag, and Blake held his breath as he reached into it, taking out its contents and placing them with care on the coffee table. Before him lay a dildo, thick and veined, a coil of cotton rope—and a set of leather shackles. Jackpot…. Blake’s breathing quickened and Alec’s rich chuckle told him this had been duly noted.
“Oh, I’d say spicy was definitely on the cards for tonight.” Alec was grinning widely. His gaze flicked to the champagne
. “Shall we?”
Blake took a deep breath, trying to quell the excitement which set his pulse racing and leaned over to open the champagne with care. He twisted the bottle until the cork popped free and pouring out two glasses of the bubbling golden liquid. He handed a glass to Alec who sipped the sparkling wine, murmuring appreciatively. Blake took a single sip, letting the flavor burst upon his tongue.
Alec raised his glass. “Happy birthday, Blake.” Warm, chocolate-brown eyes gazed at Blake with undisguised lust, and as Blake raised his own glass in acceptance, he shivered at the promise reflected in that gaze, the promise of what was to come. Happy birthday indeed…. He watched as Alec glanced once more around the room, his gaze coming to rest on the floor-to-ceiling shelves which contained his books and DVD collection.
“You can tell a lot about a man by what he reads and watches,” Alec said. “May I?” He gave a brief nod of his head toward the shelves, and Blake gestured with a wave of his hand.
“Be my guest.”
Alec unfolded himself sinuously from the sofa and walked across to the shelves, glass in hand. Blake gazed at the rear view this opportunity afforded him. Alec was wide across the shoulders, the T-shirt straining against the muscles. Obviously a man who takes care of himself…. His arms were muscled, his waist narrow. Blake gazed at Alec’s arse, the jeans molded tightly around it as though they were a second skin. Blake grinned to himself: this was promising to be a good night.
“Oh…. Oh my.” Alec’s tone was hushed as he removed a DVD from the shelf, flipping it over to peruse the cover. Blake was dying to know which one his guest had alighted on, but he didn’t have to wait long to find out. Alec turned to face him, holding aloft the DVD, with a bound and gagged naked man on the cover, a spreader bar between his legs. Alec was chuckling as he placed the DVD back on the shelf.