by D. B. Watson
“It’s delicious,” he said, finishing the drink.
“And the house?”
“It’s a dream.”
“A happy dream, I hope?”
“The house is amazing, Megan.”
“Then make an offer.”
“I don’t think I can afford what you’re asking.”
“We’ll cut the price by thirty percent.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’d rather sell it to someone I trust. Than to a stranger.”
“Megan, I don’t know—”
“Think it over and call me with your offer in a week.”
“A week?”
“That’s as long as I can wait before agreeing to another offer. We have to leave and get settled before our second child is born.”
“A week?”
“Hope to hear from you sooner.”
Adam said his goodbyes and promised Megan he would call with an offer or a pass. He drove off, wondering what he was getting himself into.
****
Adam returned home beat and hungry. He made it up to his apartment and walked in, finding bags of groceries scattered on his counter. He looked over to the living room and saw Patrick sitting on the couch reading, with earbuds in his ears. Adam tossed his keys in a bowl he kept on a table near the stairs, removed his coat, and walked over to Patrick. He dropped his coat on the couch beside his lover, causing him to jump.
Patrick looked up, pulling one of his earbuds out. He wore another of Adam’s tee shirts from his college days, barefoot, with nothing underneath.
“Adam, I didn’t hear you come in.” Adam moved closer and took the book out of Patrick’s hands, placing it on the coffee table. He grabbed Patrick’s wrists, one holding his slim music pod, and pulled him to his feet.
“What are you listening to?” Adam asked, taking the earplug, placing it in his ear. Soft piano music filled his head.
“It’s nothing,” began Patrick. “I use it to help me read.” Patrick tried to turn the music off when Adam stopped him.
“No, leave it on. How long has it been since we last danced?”
“I’m not sure,” said Patrick. Adam placed his hand around Patrick’s waist and took his hand, gliding across the floor to the music. Patrick was lost in Adam’s gaze as they danced around the room. “This is nice,” said Patrick.
“Oh, yes, it is,” Adam responded, leaning in and kissing Patrick’s mouth. They continued to move to the song as their embrace, deepened. Neither wanted the moment to stop. But the song faded away, and so did their kiss. Adam took the earbuds out of their ears, placing them and the phone on the table beside Patrick's book. Without warning, Adam scooped Patrick off his feet.
Patrick chuckled at Adam’s action as he looked at his blue eyes. “What are you doing?” asked Patrick.
“I should ask you that,” said Adam.
“What?”
Adam carried him to the kitchen and placed him down. “What’s all of this?” he asked, gesturing to the bags on the counter.
“Oh, well, I was wondering if you could—well, show me how to cook a little.”
Adam inspected the bags, finding several vegetables, eggs, dairy, and grains.
“What did you want to make?” asked Adam.
“I’m not sure. But everything you make me is fantastic.”
“Did you buy a protein?”
“A protein?”
Adam leaned into him and groped one of his ass cheeks. “Meat.”
“Oh, yes,” Patrick said with excitement. He moved to the refrigerator and removed a large frozen turkey, placing it on the counter. “I like turkey.”
Its frozen state was still present as Adam saw the clinging patches of ice. Adam sighed, then smiled at Patrick.
“Pat, I don’t think this turkey is ready to get cooked, and besides, it’ll take a few hours.”
“Hours?”
“Yeah.”
Patrick looked bewildered. “So, what does that mean?”
Adam placed his hands on his shoulders. Like his father did whenever he made a mistake.
“It only means that we need smaller pieces of meat.”
“OK, I’ll just go back to the store on the corner.”
“It’s closed now,” Adam said, carrying the turkey back to the refrigerator.
“Oh, okay.” Patrick turned away, cursing himself for his mistake.
Adam heard the disappointment in his voice. He hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, we have eggs, and we can make a mean veggie omelet.”
“Will an omelet be enough for you? You worked all day.”
“My day wasn’t that strenuous.”
“Really. What did you do?” Patrick asked, wondering if Adam would tell him he was out shopping with some blonde.
“I’ll tell you all about it while we cook.” Adam gathered a cutting board and knife and placed them in front of Patrick. “First, we need to wash the vegetables.” Adam moved Patrick to the sink. He grabbed mushrooms, peppers, a small onion, fresh spinach, and a tomato. He stood behind Patrick and showed him how to wash the food. The eggs proved to be tricky for Patrick. After the fourth one, he managed to keep the broken shell out of the mixture. All the while, Adam talked about his day with him.
"Do you think the stepfather is the stalker?" asked Patrick, keeping his eyes focused while cutting peppers the way Adam showed him.
"That's what I'm hoping," replied Adam, seasoning the eggs. Adam decided not to tell Patrick about his visit to Justin's apartment.
“Can I know the name of your client?”
“Jamie Stewart. His boyfriend hired me. His name is Yuri Jin.”
“Ow!” Patrick’s ex-boyfriend’s name said out loud caused him to slip with his knife and cut one of his knuckles. Blood trickled onto the cutting board and the pepper he was cutting. Adam grabbed a towel and pressed it on Patrick’s cut. He moved him to the sink, where he rinsed off the wound, then returned the towel to control the bleeding.
“Hold this here and I’ll get the first aid kit,” ordered Adam, hurrying off. Patrick did as Adam instructed. A pang of guilt surfaced as the kiss from Yuri formed in his mind. Why? he asked himself. Tears trickled down his face as Adam returned with first aid kit. Adam placed the metal container down on the dining room table and rushed over to Patrick.
“Pat—” Adam walked him over to the table and sat him down. “Are you in pain?” He brushed Patrick’s tears away with a stroke of his fingers.
“Adam,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything right.”
“It was an accident, baby. I’ve done it a few times. It’s no big deal.”
“Yes, it is.” Patrick was referring to Yuri’s kiss.
“No, baby, it’s not.” Adam went to work patching up his hand. Once finished, he even kissed the bandaged finger. “There, I sealed it with a kiss.”
Patrick almost laughed as Adam smiled at him.
“My mother always kissed my injuries when I was a kid,” said Adam.
“Mine too,” said Patrick, no longer crying.
“Then it works,” said Adam.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you. Now about dinner.”
“I can keep cutting.”
“No, but how about you watch me, and I’ll do all the cooking and explain as I go?”
“Okay.” Patrick dropped his eyes, but Adam touched his chin and brought them back up.
“Next time, stay focused, okay?”
“I will.”
They bent in for a kiss and returned to the kitchen. Patrick stood by Adam and watched him move faster, cutting the vegetables.
“So,” stated Adam. “Justin told me that your family owns the Hotel Duet.”
“That’s true.”
“That place is top-notch.”
“Would you like to stay there? My parents have a private suite.”
Adam popped a mushroom in his mouth and wished he’d never asked about the place. �
�I’m good,” was all he could say.
Patrick knew why he didn’t want to go. “It would have been for free. We wouldn’t have to pay for it.”
“It’s not that, Pat, it’s—"
“My money?”
“I don’t want your father thinking I’m using you for your money.”
“He won’t. And when we go to the party this weekend, he’ll see the man I fell in love with.”
“This weekend? Oh, crap, I forgot to tell Mr. Jin about the party.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I’ll tell him I need a day off tomorrow.”
“Two days.”
“What?”
“This party is for two days. We’re staying the night.”
“Who has parties for two days?”
“Lots of people.”
“Okay, but, Patrick, I’m not sure if I can promise two days.”
“You’re not going?”
“I am—but—okay, let’s not worry about this.” Adam poured the eggs into a heated pan and added the fillings.
“You still need a suit.”
“Crap, I forgot. We were buying suits today.”
“Well, I can get yours if I can get your measurements.”
“That would be great, Pat. You know what I like.”
“I do.”
“Perfect.” Adam tossed the cheese in last as Patrick grabbed a bottle of wine to go with their meal. They set the table and Adam served. While they ate, Patrick wanted intel about Yuri.
"What do you think of Yuri Jin?" he asked, trying not to sound too interested.
"Not sure yet," Adam said, taking a bite of his food. “Justin likes him.” Patrick rolled his eyes and continued his inquiry.
"Does he love Jamie?"
"I think so. But ignoring the attempts on Jamie's life got me worried."
Patrick paused as he swallowed a good portion of his wine before asking his next question. "Is he pretty?"
"Who?”
"Yuri’s lover."
"Yes, he is pretty. And no, he's not my type." Adam quickly defused any self-doubt Patrick might have.
“I never said he was.”
“Patrick, you have nothing to worry about.”
“I was just asking.” Patrick swallowed the rest of his wine before pouring more.
“Jamie has daddy issues and I think Yuri’s there to fill them.”
“So, you think it’s one-sided?”
“I’m not sure.”
“We’re not one-sided, are we?”
“No, we’re complete. What are you wearing under that shirt?”
“I’ll show you when we’re done eating.”
When their meal was through, they placed their forks down.
“Do you want anything more to eat?” asked Adam.
“Not food,” said Patrick.
“Neither do I,” replied Adam. They stood and began stripping for each other. Tugging off clothes sent the two into a frenzy. Their bodies slammed into counters. Their lips locked as their tongues moved in each other's mouths.
Adam attacked Patrick's tender neck, sending him into cries of pleasure.
"God, Adam, don't stop." The counter's edge dug into Patrick's back sending heat to his erection as Adam pressed against him. Patrick's hands combed through his detective's blonde locks. Adam's strong fingers groped his aristocratic ass. Adam snatched Patrick into the air and sat him on the counter, spreading his lean legs apart. They locked eyes as Adam positioned himself to pleasure them both.
"I love you," confessed Adam.
"I love you too," moaned his overwhelmed lover. "Fuck me."
"Beg for it."
"Please fuck me, Adam. I need you inside me."
Adam entered the snug space in one driving force, bringing Patrick's lower back off the counter as he grasped the edge of the countertop, settling his body onto his lover's cock. The constricted invasion became ecstasy as Adam eased in and out of the warm confinement. Patrick's voice echoed throughout their apartment.
"God, you're tight," Adam groaned, taking hold of Patrick's wrists. The jabs were steady as they stayed in time with each other. The sweat glistened off their bodies as they both approached their climactic event. Adam wasn't ready when he pulled out, hearing Patrick's moan.
Adam pulled Patrick off the counter and turned him lining his ass with his cock. Patrick, was frightened by Adam's forcefulness but too overwhelmed with lust to protest. With his free hand, Adam snatched up Patrick's leg and entered him, sending him into a fever of cries and moans as he pushed them both closer to their summit.
Adam pounded into him, the same speed matched by the fisting of Patrick’s cock. Their creamy milk erupted, sending their wails throughout the apartment. Adam collapsed on top of Patrick.
Their deep breathing slowed with each intake of air. Their heavy heartbeats pulsed in their chests. Adam released his leg, leaving Patrick to rest against the counter covered in his lover’s heat.
"I'm not jealous," Patrick groaned.
Adam smirked at Patrick’s declaration. "I know. I'll clean up here while you go take a shower."
"Why don't you come along?"
“That sounds nice.”
Adam moved with Patrick when they were interrupted by Adam’s cell phone ringing. He went to the couch and tossed Patrick the tee shirt he was wearing then grabbed his coat, digging in the pockets, removing his cell.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Potter, you’re needed at the penthouse to monitor Jamie,” said Penny Bell.
Adam glanced at Patrick, who was wiping his cum-stained body with Adam’s shirt.
“Will this be overnight?”
“No, just a few hours.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“We’ll be expecting you.”
Adam hung up, looking at Patrick. “Sorry, it’s work.”
“But what about your measurements for your suit?”
Adam moved to a notepad on the end table and wrote his size down, handing it to Patrick.
“Here, use these.” Patrick took the pad. “Sorry, Pat, don’t wait up for me.” Adam grabbed the shirt from his hand and cleaned himself up the best he could. Adam redressed, kissed Patrick one last time, and left.
After watching the elevator door close, Patrick texted Michael back, sending Adam’s measurements. He grabbed his music and headed to the bathroom.
CHAPTER 15
EleVator
Adam agreed to the conditions of being a bodyguard, knowing there would be night calls, but he so wanted to take that shower with Patrick. He parked in the Duet’s connected garage and entered through the penthouse’s private elevator.
Adam used the key card to activate the elevator door. Upon the doors opening, nothing seemed out of the norm, until he glanced down. On the floor lay Jamie Stewart, lying on his side, appearing to be asleep, wearing faded jeans, sneakers, and a quarter-length coat draped over him.
Adam dropped to one knee, checking for a pulse, trauma, or sign of a struggle. He placed two of his fingers on Jamie’s neck and received a pulse. Jamie scrunched his nose and shoved the detective's hand away.
"Stop!" he cried. "Your fingers are cold." Jamie rolled onto his back, pushing his coat aside, displaying a soft-color top that hugged the shape of his torso. A smile grew across Jamie's face as he let Adam's eyes drink in his body.
"Are you OK?" Adam asked.
"I'm fine, Detective. And how are you?"
"What are you doing in here, Jamie?"
"You're the detective, you tell me."
"You had three attempts on your life; making light of this is not helping."
"Sorry," Jamie said, sitting up and holding out one hand to Adam.
Adam reached out and grasped Jamie’s slim, soft palm, and gently pulled him to his feet. Adam tried to pull his hand away first, only Jamie’s fingers lingered as he lightly squeezed Adam’s.
“Are you dizzy?” asked Adam.