by James, J. P.
“But what if he’s a criminal?” I ask plaintively.
She stares at me. “Milo, don’t be such a baby. You’re a grown man, and in good shape too. You could kick his butt if you’re in danger, or at least run faster than him. You almost won that last marathon you were in, remember?”
That’s true. I am unbelievably fast in road races. But still, doubt lingers in my mind.
“But maybe he’s setting me up for something else later,” I say hesitantly. “Like maybe he has goons too who will jump out at me and tie me up. Then, how would I get away?”
“God!” Carla rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Milo. I mean, does that really happen in real life? Here, let me look him up on-line.”
She grabs her phone and immediately starts typing. Within seconds, her face has gone slack as her eyes widen.
“Holy shit, this is him?” she asks, turning the phone screen in my direction. I gulp and nod. Neil is insanely handsome in the pic on the screen, dressed in a dark suit with a blindingly white dress shirt. His blue eyes seem to blaze and look straight into the heart of the observer.
“Um, yeah,” I say.
Carla jumps up from the couch and begins bouncing up and down.
“Of course you have to go! Oh my god, this guy just saved your life? And he’s offering you money? Yes, yes, yes! Are you insane, Milo?”
I manage to look ashamed.
“Well, I mean …”
“Well, nothing,” she cuts me off. “He has an online presence, so obviously this isn’t some shady no-name character. I mean, he’s practically a public figure,” she says, scrolling through more and more pictures of Neil. “Hell, if I were you, I’d be there tonight. Right now. Ready to do whatever he wants.”
I blush.
“You know, I’m not sure he’s gay,” my voice trails off.
Carla merely shakes her head.
“Gay, straight or whatever, everything you’ve told me indicates that this guy is into you, Milo. You have to pursue it! Go! See what opportunity brings.”
It sounds so easy and simple when she says it, but life isn’t that easy. Nothing ever drops into my lap like manna from heaven, not for me anyways. “Even if he is for real,” I say, working at my lower lip. “Can I call you if I need to be rescued? You know, I’ll text you from the bathroom and all that?”
Carla bursts out laughing, her curls shaking wildly. But then, a flicker on the TV catches my eye. It’s a special news report about a local shooting.
“Oh my god!” I stare at the TV.
Carla twists around to see what I’m looking at.
It’s Playing Desires. The bar is wrapped all the way around with yellow caution tape, and emergency lights are flashing all over the place. Ambulances. Fire trucks. Cops. I feel the blood drain from my face as the reporter relates what happened.
Evidently, there was a murder at the bar last night, not long after I left. Listening to the news reporter, Carla’s eyes go as wide as saucers.
“Isn’t that where you work?” she says in a small voice. “Where you met Neil?”
I nod silently, my attention still glued to the screen. According to the grim-faced woman on the TV, a few customers at Playing Desires were injured in a shootout, and a few more are in critical condition at the local hospital. As it stands, only the owner lost his life.
“God, I’m sorry, Milo,” Carla abandons her wine on the coffee table. It almost spills. “I know you liked working there. You probably would’ve been killed if that guy hadn’t come along.”
I gulp, nodding silently. Neil really did save my life last night. And yet, it was almost like he knew all that stuff was going to happen. Is that possible?
Maybe his being there was no coincidence. Maybe he’s involved in it somehow. But if he is, then why did he look out for me? What it is about me that made the handsome man determined to become my savior? Now, I have to find out.
6
Neil
My entire weekend was long and boring. I kept myself busy with tennis, squash, and working out in my private gym, but the entire time, I just thought about him. Milo.
Now, the man’s in my thoughts, trapped in my mind by the cage of my attraction. The way I’m feeling, you’d think I’ve never gotten hard for a gorgeous man before, but something about this seductive male has me all twisted up in knots. Maybe it’s his amazing body or just the way he was a perfect blend of shy and confident while talking to me. It’s not easy to be guileless, yet seductive at once.
And I respect his suspicion. After all, I’m a customer who appeared out of nowhere, promising him the world. So no, he didn’t seem like he trusted me when I practically shoved the check for twenty grand into his hand before putting him in that cab. But the spark deep in those mocha eyes told me he wanted to know more. Will Milo allow that attraction between us to rule his actions where I’m concerned? Or will he play it safe and stay away?
I hope he comes to me. I pray for him to come to me. God, I’d make every part of his surrender worth his while.
Immediately, my mind brings up ways that a man like that could surrender himself to me. Every stretch of that athletic body across my bed, or on any available surface, for that matter. Every scream of ecstasy. Every sinuous and hungry movement of his hands along my back, and his legs wrapped around my waist.
Suddenly, a voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Thanks, Mr. Woods. I’ll see to that right away.” Shelly, my secretary, speaks to me over the intercom although I barely remember what I just said to her.
Oh, yeah. The meeting I have in about fifteen minutes.
I clear my throat and try not to sound like I’ve been gargling glass. “That’s good, Shelly. Are we all set to go?”
“Yes, Mr. Woods. All of the managers except Mrs. Karlsen are already in the boardroom and ready for the meeting.”
“Perfect. I’ll wait another ten minutes for her, and then I’ll get started,” I say as I email off a reply to one of my accountants about the Stephanie Van Deene account I closed over the weekend.
Realistically, I don’t need to be at this meeting. I hire and properly compensate the best people to work for me, and they are more than worth their weight in gold in terms of the money they make me and the results they yield for my clients. All of them are also self-starters; they know what I need from them at these quarterly meetings, and they provide it on a regular basis.
“All right,” Shelly says. “I have everything you need right here on my desk when you’re ready for them.”
“Thank you, Shelly.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Woods.”
Just as I press the button to end our call, a chime comes from my cell phone. I pick it up to have a look. Oh, very nice.
According to the alert from my bank, Milo Barnett, my handsome songbird, just cashed the check I gave him over the weekend. A quick scan of the details tells me all I need to know. Then, a shark’s smile takes over my mouth and a feeling of satisfaction twists low in my gut. Still grinning, I buzz Shelly again.
She picks up right away. “Yes, Mr. Woods?”
“Please schedule another meeting for me, one right after this one.”
“Of course, sir.” The note of surprise is obvious in her voice. She knows I hate back-to-back meetings. “With whom?”
I nod into the phone.
“Contact a Mr. Milo Barnett at the phone number I’m sending you right now. Please let him know I’d like to see him as soon as possible at his place. It has to do with the bar that just burned down. And clear my lunch schedule, and don’t add anything else to it for the rest of the day.” A few strokes of my fingers send Milo’s number to Shelly by inter-office messenger.
“Right away, Mr. Woods.”
She knows better than to ask more questions. I end the call feeling like a whole new man. I’m going to see my songbird today. I wonder if I’ll get him to sing for me in a special, private show. Naked if possible.
Is it wrong to think these thought
s? The thing is, Milo appealed to me the moment I set eyes on him. It’s tough to explain. He’s gorgeous, of course, but there’s something new and fresh about him as well. Untainted and pure, which isn’t something I come across very often.
But first, I have to get work done. Although there’s a lot on the agenda, the meeting with my managers flies by. Even with the anticipation of seeing Milo burning in my gut, I manage to focus enough on business to get things done to my satisfaction.
Finally, I’m done and I slide into a chauffeured car. Street traffic flows behind me as we make our way over a bridge, and into Brooklyn. Fortunately, Milo’s address was part of the information the bank forwarded me after he cashed my check. Do all banks make that info available? Probably not, but then again, I own the bank.
As I look around, I marvel at the surroundings. Brooklyn is definitely different from the city. All along the sidewalk, I see places on the verge of being turned from working class spots – bodegas, shoe stores, barber shops – into hipster magnets like high-end boutiques, cigar bars, and places that sell beard wax. The apartments also look like they’re on the verge of costing the average Joe an arm and a leg.
But for now, the one Milo lives in looks like it’s going to see worse times before it gets better. The roof is slightly sagging, and with a practiced eye, I notice the drooping gutters and chipped paint on the corners. I should probably buy it up to push the process along faster. We’ll see.
The address to Milo’s place says he’s up seven floors, and I bet it’s a walk up. But I can easily sprint up seven flights of stairs in anticipation of seeing him again. True, it’s a little freaky that I’m just showing up at his place unannounced, but then again, surprises are my specialty.
I turn to my driver, who stands at the front end of the big, black Mercedes with his hands crossed in front of him. “Don’t wait for me, Andrew,” I tell him. “I’ll contact you in a few hours, so just stay in the area and stay ready.”
“Of course, Mr. Woods.” Andrew slips back into the car while I stride toward the building’s front door.
Milo answers the bell as soon as I ring and immediately buzzes me up. The jog up the seven flights is easy, nothing compared to the first couple of minutes of my daily morning run. At his front door, I’m not even breathing hard. After a quick knock, I settle my suit jacket more comfortably with an easy roll of my shoulders, and stretch my neck to get rid of any tension.
Milo opens the door with a slight but confident smile. “Hi, Mr. Woods.”
Good. God. Damn.
Although I’m not a kid with his first hard-one, one look at him in a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans sticks my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Wow, he’s absolutely gorgeous.
This man isn’t huge, but he’s toned and athletic. I bet there isn’t an ounce of fat on him. Plus, that winning smile makes me grin in return. His blue eyes sparkle, and his mop of chestnut curls flops over one eye in a tantalizing manner.
Down, boy! My cock is as hard as a steel pike, but hopefully, he can’t see with my suit jacket covering it.
“Mr. Woods?” Milo’s smile wavers as he stares at me with a confused look. “Is everything okay? Your secretary called to make an appointment with me, and I was worried. It’s about Playing Desires, right? I’m devastated that the owner’s died. H-he was a friend of mine,” Milo says, his voice coming with a hitch.
I frown. “Take it easy. Can I come in to talk? I doubt your neighbors want to share on this sad conversation.”
He nods, opening the door wider, and I step into the little apartment. As expected, the space isn’t much to look at. It doesn’t a lot of furniture, just a big sofa and a little coffee table set up in front of the TV. Near the window, a little counter separates the small living room from the tinier kitchen, and a narrow hallway leads to what I assume is a minuscule bedroom and attached bathroom. Overall, the apartment is small and modest, but it’s clean and well put together. Milo may not have a ton of money, but he seems to take pride in what he can afford.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asks. “Tea, coffee, or water?” He closes the door behind me and heads toward the kitchen. “I think there’s even some sparkling water here that my best friend left the last time she was here, in case you want that.”
Figures that the handsome gay boy would have a female best friend. Good. No other men on the horizon.
“No, coffee is fine. I drink mine black with two sugars.”
Milo nods and disappears. After taking another look around the room, I head for the little table and grab the back of one of the chairs. Better to have the conversation there than on the forced intimacy of the couch. After all, I want him to trust my motives, and not come off as a creep trying to get into his pants. Of course, I want to explore physical intimacies with him, but first, we need to have a hands-free discussion about the deal he accepted when he cashed my check. I pride myself on being a tactical man, both in business and in the bedroom.
Smiling to myself, I unbutton the single button of my suit jacket and sit down at the bistro table. The chair is small and forces me to sit facing the room for now. I spread my thighs wide in casual confidence. I know the summer dress shirt I wear is fitted to my taut body and is a crisp enough white to show off my toned form. Hopefully, Milo likes it.
After making the coffee, he brings two cups into the living room. When he sees me at the bistro table, he pauses and visibly gulps. Good. He looks like a man who’s seeing an alpha male in his living room, and who likes it. His tongue swipes along his lower lip as he looks down my body discreetly. My cock twitches against my thigh.
But Milo’s not a tacky guy. I watch as he takes a quick breath and forces a cheerful smile on his face. Of course, this man is an open book who wears his emotions on his face. He can’t fake anything, at least, not when it comes to me.
He sits down across from me and slides the two cups of coffee to the middle of the table, before clearing his throat and starting to speak.
“To be honest, I was surprised to get the call from your secretary so soon,” Milo says in a rush. “But I agreed to let you come over here on such short notice because of what’s happened,” he says quietly. “The circumstances of our meeting are tragic, and I figured it was better to face it head on.”
Damn, he’s not pulling any punches, and I respect him for it. At the same time, I know I need to tread lightly. This is a man with values, and I can’t go scaring him off with careless gestures.
I chuckle hoarsely.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I say after taking a sip of the coffee. Hmm. It’s surprisingly good. Nice, dark, and strong with a flush of sugar that satisfies my sweet tooth. “I know. I can’t believe Playing Desires is gone.”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s too bad,” he says with a sad smile. “I liked it there.”
“I’ll remember that,” I rumble. With another sip of my coffee and a little gesture to his untouched cup, I encourage him to drink too. Milo takes a hesitant sip as I begin to speak.
“Playing Desires is a special place to me, and I’ll tell you why in a moment, but I also wanted to discuss your upcoming performance.”
He puts his cup down delicately as I continue. “Like I said the other night, the check I gave you is for your live performance at a space of my own choosing. You don’t have to worry about it being sleazy or anything like that. The venue befits someone as talented as you are, and will showcase your skills. Tonight will be an intimate experience—”
“Wait. You want me to perform tonight?” Milo looks surprised. His coffee cup rattles on the table when he abruptly sets it down. “But I’m not ready.”
“I disagree,” I tell him, shaking my head. “You were born for this performance. Don’t worry about a thing. I have everything under control.”
A frown wrinkles his otherwise smooth forehead, and it’s his turn to shake his head. “I’m just not ready yet, Mr. Woods. It’s not just about the timing. I still have a commitment to Playing Desires. Even th
ough they’re closed down right now because of the investigation into Milton’s death, but I can’t just leave them in the lurch if they suddenly need me to come in for something. I signed a contract with them, and they have my promise to be there every day.”
My smile falls away. “But now you have a contract with me,” I remind him firmly. This situation requires a delicate touch, but also a strong one. I don’t want to scare Milo away right now, but it’s also important that he understands who’s boss. “Tonight is the night.”
The younger man sits back hard in his chair, like he’s thinking hard. “I never agreed to any of this,” he says softly.
“Not true.” A wicked grin lifts the corner of my mouth. “You and I have a verbal contract. By cashing my check for twenty thousand dollars, you initiated the contract between us; you agreed to its terms. This is an agreement that I won’t allow you to break.”
He stares at me suspiciously. “Is this for real? Are you for real? You can’t be serious. I just explained, I have obligations.” He crosses his arms over his chest aggressively, and I can’t help but notice that his fingers are trembling. His mouth starts to shake too, but he sounds furious instead of scared. “You’ve trapped me really well, haven’t you?”
Yes, I have. But because I can be a bit of an asshole, I lie to him just a little bit. “I haven’t put you anyplace you don’t really want to be, Milo.”
The dark brown curls shiver as he shakes his head. “That’s not true! You don’t know me.”
I lift a hand in a placating manner. The young man doesn’t look quite so fearless anymore, and the distress on his handsome face tweaks my conscience just a bit because yes, there is some truth to his accusation. I’ve easily maneuvered him to exactly where I want him to be, but I don’t want him to hate that place, nor do I want him to hate me. So what do I do? Frankly, Milo’s already surrendered without even knowing it, but I want him to enjoy the surrender too, and to slide willingly into this affair. In short, what he thinks matters, and I take a deep breath.