Man Candy

by Amanda Young

  As if his dismal thoughts caused it, a clap of thunder ripped through the quiet. He turned to the double-paned window bedside his desk in time to see a torrent of rain fall from the sky. Sheets of it splashed against the windowsill and blanketed the landscape outside.

  “Great,” Aaron mumbled to himself. Call a taxi, which he couldn’t really afford, or walk home in the rain. The bus wasn’t an option, because the closest stop was over halfway to his apartment. By the time he got there, he would already be soaked.

  “What’s great?”

  Aaron gaze shot to the doorway, where his boss stood just over the threshold. He’d been so lost in thought, staring out the window, that he hadn’t heard Logan come in. “Nothing. Just wishing the rain would’ve waited until after I got home.”

  Logan closed the door behind him and locked it. Before stepping any further into the room, he glanced around. “Is she gone yet?”

  Aaron grinned. Thank God Logan hadn’t liked her either. He would’ve felt bad for canning her. “Long gone. I sent her packing at five.”

  “I hope you called the agency and told them to send someone else.”

  “Right before you got here.”

  “Good. I don’t want some woman in here making goo-goo eyes at me all day. It’s unnerving.” With that, he unbuckled the work belt around his waist and dropped it to the floor. The heavy tools clanked when they hit the beige tile next to Aaron’s desk. “Oh, that’s better.” Logan stretched, pushing his shoulders back. “I swear that damn thing gets heavier every day. Sucks getting old.”

  Aaron’s gaze devoured Logan’s beautiful muscular frame. For some reason, all those lean, corded muscles reminded him of a jungle cat preparing to pounce on his prey. And damn if that didn’t make him want to drop out of his chair, roll to his back, and expose his belly for sacrifice. Instead, he snorted. “Yep. Thirty-five is decrepit. Next thing you know, you’ll need a cane just to hobble in and out of the office.”

  Logan rolled his eyes, but smiled, little crinkles popping up in the tanned skin around his eyes and mouth. “Smartass.” He bypassed Aaron on the way back to his private office. Over his shoulder, he said, “If you want to wait around for a bit, I’ll give you a lift home. Can’t have you out walking around in the rain and getting sick on me, now can I?”

  It was a nice offer. Being in such close quarters with the object of his affection made Aaron spring wood just thinking about it. Accepting wasn’t a good idea. His luck, the man would inadvertently rub his thigh while shifting gears and make him go off like a schoolboy. And how mortifying would that be? Better to call a cab and waste a little money. With so little time left, he’d hate to end his current job on a sour note. Coming all over himself more than qualified.

  “Thanks anyway,” he called after Logan, “but I’m just going to call a cab.”

  “All right, if you’re sure. It’s no trouble.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Aaron hollered back. He recognized a trace of stubbornness in his boss’s voice, the ability to easily read the man one of the perks that came from having worked together so long.

  He picked up the handset and called for a cab before he could be talked out of it.

  “My cab’s on its way. I’m just going to go out and wait for it in the vestibule.” Aaron didn’t wait for an answer before heading for the door.

  Logan’s gravelly voice startled him ‑‑ so close, when Aaron had believed he was on his way down the hall toward his office. “Aaron. Why don’t you stick around for a minute? I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  Aaron swung back around. His heart skipped a beat at his boss’s ominous words. “Um, okay.” Shit. He moseyed over to his desk, faking a calm he didn’t feel, and propped his hip against the corner. “What do you, um, want to talk about?”

  Facing him, Logan leaned back against the wall and crossed his thick forearms over his chest. “I couldn’t help but notice that there’s been a lot of staring and what almost seems like flirting going on lately.” He paused and studied Aaron’s face.

  Flames shot up Aaron’s neck and engulfed his cheeks. He dropped his eyes, too ashamed of his behavior to look Logan in the face. What he really wanted to do was crawl under his desk and hide. Logan knew.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, if the reason you’re leaving is because of Jake’s teasing you, I’ve put a stop to it. I had a talk with Jake, and he gave me his word he wouldn’t do it anymore.”

  Aaron jerked his head up and met his boss’s eyes. He exhaled. Logan didn’t know. Oh, thank you, God. Now he didn’t have to die of humiliation. “I appreciate that, but Jake doesn’t have anything to do with my leaving. I like Jake fine. It’s just a better job offer. That’s all.”

  Logan’s intense gaze raked over Aaron’s face as if he was trying to judge his sincerity. Finally, appearing satisfied with what he saw, Logan smiled. “Okay. I’m glad we cleared the air about that. It was bothering me. Now that we’ve got that unpleasantness out of the way, I was wondering if there was any way I could change your mind about staying on here. I shouldn’t have to tell you that you’re going to be missed.”

  Logan’s statement had a more powerful effect on Aaron than Jake’s comment yesterday about him being cute. His body skipped the blush and went straight into horny hyper-drive, the tender skin of his balls wrinkling up tight to his groin to make room for his dick to grow. Aaron swallowed a whimper, determined to get through the next few minutes without embarrassing himself.

  “That’s a tempting offer, but unless you could match the salary and benefits I’d be getting with Lowe’s, I’m going to have to move on. I don’t really want to, but I’m going to have student loans to repay soon, and, well, the extra cash will be nice. Shoot, they even offer stock options. As much as I’ve always liked Pop-Tarts, I get sick of eating them for every meal.”

  Logan’s dark eyes widened. “Jesus, Aaron, why didn’t you tell me things had gotten so tight? I would’ve figured out a way to give you a better raise or something.”

  It wasn’t Logan’s fault Aaron had chosen to move out of his dorm after his roommate had tried to force him into giving him a blowjob. Or that the reasonable rent he’d agreed to pay had mysteriously gone up six months after he’d moved in. Aaron shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

  “The hell it’s not. I could have done something to help you! You should have come to me.”

  God, he loved this man. There wasn’t a single bad bone in his body. Except for maybe his dick, his stupid, straight dick. “You’re my boss. I didn’t want to bother you with my problems.”

  A sad look on his face, Logan shook his head. “I thought we were friends. Friends help each other.”

  He wouldn’t know. He didn’t really have any, except for Ross, who was the king of being oblivious to anything outside of his own self-obsessed little world. “I guess.”

  Logan pointed toward the window. “Your ride’s here.”

  Aaron turned to look, and sure enough, a yellow cab was pulled up to the curb, waiting on him. “Guess I better get out there.”

  Disappointment stamped all over his face, Logan muttered, “Yeah,” and turned his back on Aaron. He walked into his office without another word.

  A sharp pain shot through Aaron’s chest as he left the office. It felt suspiciously like someone twisting a knife in his heart.

  * * * * *

  Aaron spent his evening at home, in his cramped efficiency apartment with only his host of plants for company. One-sided, rambling conversations abounded as he watered his treasures ‑‑ a plethora of fern species, an English ivy, and his favorite, a flourishing mother-in-laws tongue ‑‑ and talked to them about things he’d never tell another soul.

  At midnight, feeling tired but restless, Aaron finally stripped down and crawled into bed. Lying on his lumpy futon and unable to sleep, he rolled over onto his back, squeezed his eyelids shut, and imagined he wasn’t alone. That the man he loved was beside him, holding him close. If he concentrat
ed hard enough, he could almost feel the ghostly touch of Logan’s thick forearms wrapped around him, work-roughened hands exploring his chest and tweaking his nipples.

  Said nipples peaked, aching to be touched, and Aaron answered their call, pinching each puckered bit of flesh with just enough pressure to add a sharp bite of pain. Some men didn’t have sensitive nipples, but Aaron did. He loved to have them played with, sucked on. He licked a finger and twirled it around one small bud, wishing it was Logan’s tongue. Imagining how good it would feel if it were.

  Fingertips trailed lightly down the midsection of his torso, gooseflesh rising in their wake. They smoothed over the rise and dip of one hipbone, skirted around his cock, and cupped his balls, rolling them in his palm. He added a bit of pressure, squeezing the delicate orbs lightly.

  He placed his feet flat against the bed and spread his legs, pushing up. The hand fondling his nipple digressed and followed its counterpoint down his abs to the base of his cock, ringing it loosely. One last rub to his balls and his fingers moved backward, caressing the soft skin behind them, pressing in on the root of his cock, where it could be felt beneath the skin.

  Aaron tilted his head back and bit his lip, losing himself in the sensations wracking his body. In his mind, it wasn’t his hands working him to completion, but Logan’s.

  Contrary thoughts flittered through his mind, interrupting his pleasure for a fraction of a second. What would it be like to fuck someone he loved, who loved him in return? Would Logan be a snuggler and hold him close while they made love?

  In Aaron’s imagination, he did.

  Logan’s heat would surround him, his larger body enveloping Aaron’s slighter form. With Logan’s touch would come an innate sense of belonging, of being part of something bigger than himself. For once, it wouldn’t be about the mutual race to get off, but about pleasuring his partner and receiving the same in kind.

  Oh, how he longed for that experience.

  A soft hand pumped his cock. Fingers fisted around the base of his prick and pulled, adding snug friction. Inching upward, they contracted around the swollen flare of his cockhead and squeezed. The tip of a thumbnail pressed down into the tiny, weeping slit, prompting more moisture to flow. Its pad collected the silky tears and rubbed them over his bulbous cap, teasing the hidden nerves to life before pulling the remaining moisture down his shaft, coating his cock in satiny wetness.

  Stroke. Tap. Thumb swirl. Over and over.

  The fingers pressing into his perineum moved away. He sucked them into his mouth, wetting them with his saliva. They returned, tips grazing over his hole, teasing.

  The taut ring of muscle fluttered emptily, aching to be filled. A single digit filled his need, pressing inside to the first knuckle. His hips lifted, seeking more, and a second joined the first, stretching him open, burning as seldom-used muscles parted and allowed them in deeper, all the way to the webbing.

  A low moan bubbled up in his chest and escaped his lips, ricocheting loudly in the still bedroom. The desperate sound echoed back to his ears, driving Aaron to move faster, pump his hips forward and back. Reveling in the feel of a tight fist stroking his cock, the pair of fingers twisting inside him, stretching his ass.

  Logan’s image ‑‑ his dark penetrating gaze, stern pink lips, and stubborn chin ‑‑ flashed through the forefront of Aaron’s mind and made him whimper. A fingertip glanced over his prostate, making his balls contract and release. Orgasm slammed into him, making him tremble, wracking his body with shudders as his creamy essence spilled over his palm and splattered over his rippling abdomen.

  With Logan’s name on his lips, Aaron came.

  As the final tremors subsided, leaving him weak as a kitten, an unintelligible emptiness filled him. His nose began to burn, signaling tears that he forced away by sheer will. His fantasy left him feeling drained and lonely, worse than he’d been to start with.

  Chapter Three

  On Wednesday, Aaron’s workday turned out to be infinitely better. The temp agency sent a man, somewhere in his early to mid thirties, named Mark Davis. Thankfully, he turned out to be a quick study. By lunchtime, he was single-handedly running the office, with Aaron’s supervision.

  For once, Aaron ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich in peace, without being interrupted by a phone call or a visitor every five minutes. It was a nice change of pace. Or it would have been, if an almost palpable sense of longing hadn’t clouded his every thought. Masturbating the night before had left him cranky and out of sorts.

  That Logan seemed to be avoiding him, as if he knew what Aaron secretly yearned for night after night, didn’t help his state of mind. Other than the morning, when Logan had made an appearance to double check his appointment calendar, Aaron hadn’t seen him all day. The man hadn’t even called in to check his messages, which was highly unlike him.

  Aaron tried to convince himself he was being silly, that he was obsessing and allowing his own frustrated desires to muddy his judgment. Nevertheless, when it neared five o’clock and Logan still hadn’t made an appearance, a small part of him felt ostracized. The same contrary part of his psyche that insisted his feelings for Logan were more than lust and were, in fact, love. All consuming, never-ending, up-shit-creek-without-a-paddle love. Something no amount of time or distance would solve. If that were the case, he was sunk, because unless his penis fell off ‑‑ God forbid ‑‑ and he magically sprouted a vagina ‑‑ a scarier thought than losing his dick ‑‑ his feelings were not going to be reciprocated in this lifetime.

  Which only served to reinforce the sad state of his life.

  It’d been months since his last failed date; maybe it was time to jump back into the singles mélange and find someone to fuck. Getting laid had never worked before, but with no other options, and his wrist only a couple more jerk-off sessions away from developing an advanced case of carpal tunnel, he needed to do something. Maybe this time he would find someone great, someone who set off all the bells and whistles in his head and made him forget Logan Remora existed. Not likely, but stranger things had happened. Maybe he’d get lucky in more ways than one.

  The phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts, something that had been happening more and more lately, and he jerked it up off holder. “Remora’s Construction. How may I help you?”

  “Aaron?”

  “Yeah.” It was Ross, his fair-weather friend. He put his hand over the receiver and spoke to Mark, their hopeful new temp. “You can take off if you want.” He pointed to the clock, which read ten minutes till five. “Doubt we get any more business today anyway.”

  Mark smiled and nodded, his neat little bifocal glasses wobbling on the bridge of his nose. “Thanks. See you in the morning?” he asked cautiously.

  “Yeah. Eight o’clock. Thanks for coming in.”

  He watched Mark go while Ross rambled nonstop in his ear. “Thank God you’re still at work. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to catch you before you went home. You really need to remember to keep your cell phone on, bud.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. So, what’s up?” Aaron didn’t bother to remind his friend that it wasn’t a matter of remembering to turn it on; it was a matter of running out of minutes and not being able to afford to go over his limit. A huge wireless bill would be impossible to pay, and he didn’t want to ruin his good credit by getting it cut off.

  “How would you feel about going out with me tomorrow night? I pulled some strings and managed to get my name on the guest list for the grand reopening for Evocative Arts, the gallery over on Fifth Street

  , but my date just called and bailed on me. Something about needing to get his sleep for a big job interview Friday morning or something like that, I forget. Anyway, there’s this hot young piece of man candy doing his first showing in honor of the reopening, and I really, really want to go. Do you think you’d be interested? I don’t want to go by myself; that would look pathetic. And I figured you’re not doing anything anyway, so…what do ya say? Will you go?”

/>   An art gallery? That sounded expensive. “I don’t know, Ross. It sounds a little fancy, and I probably don’t have anything to wear, and…” He really wasn’t all that interested in art. At least, not the kind that would probably be on display. While he enjoyed a nice portrait or landscape, he had no interest in anything abstract. He could never figure out what they were and would only end up offending the artist and/or embarrassing himself when he tried to guess.

  “Come on, Aaron. It’ll be fun, and I’ll even take you out to dinner afterwards, my treat, in exchange for your going with me. Please.”

  Aaron was just about to cave and agree to go when he heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps outside the office door. Logan. Aaron held his breath. The door crept open and Jake entered, whistling. Aaron blew out a disappointed breath.

  Ross’s nasal voice sounded in his ear. “Well, will you go?”

  Aaron held up a finger at Jake, letting him know he would be off the phone in a second. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. Pick me up at my apartment beforehand, okay? Now, I really have to go, Ross. Business calls. See you tomorrow evening.”

  He disconnected the call and looked toward Jake, who’d pulled over one of the four chairs from across the room and straddled it while Aaron had finished up his call.

  Jake grinned. “Hot date tomorrow?”

  Aaron rolled his eyes. “No, just a friend in need. He wants me to go to some art show tomorrow. So, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off by now?”

  “I’m on my way out. Just thought I would drop in and say hi first. And that’s too bad about the date, by the way. You should get out more. Socialize.”

  Aaron barely suppressed his embarrassment over being a social hermit. He didn’t feel comfortable at clubs, and there was no way he would be caught dead at any of the private tea rooms or bathhouses he’d heard about. Instead of getting defensive, though, he decided to pick back at Jake. “How do you know I don’t? I could have a line of men waiting for me back at my place.”