by Gavin Atlas
The man grabbed a condom from the pillow and ripped the wrapper. “You really love to please him, don’t you? Damn, you’re a good boy.” He pressed Drew’s legs back until his knees were by his shoulders. “I wish all boys were like you.”
Drew moaned as the man’s large dick poked at him again and again, threatening to find its way in. “Will you stay at the Zanzibar next time you’re in Vegas?”
“If I get to see you again,” the man said, running a hand through Drew’s hair.
Drew’s stomach tightened. “I don’t…uh…” He hadn’t thought about this. “I don’t think it will be right for a casino owner to…uh…you know, if I’m a big shot?” But what if Drew wanted to be a good boy? “Still, when you see the new tower out past I-15,” Drew whispered as Burt opened the door, “remind yourself you helped make it all possible.”
Chapter 2: The Vegas Club
Burt kissed Drew on the forehead, making Drew conscious of how sweaty they both were. “That was a hot number, little man,” Burt said. “Maybe better than that Parker Stevenson at the Tuscany. I hope the cameras caught it all this time.”
Drew never liked discussing the hidden cameras. Why didn’t Burt ever consider the trouble they could cause? “I’m glad you had fun. But when they’re rough, you need to prove you’re rougher and—”
“And that’s what was so hot about it!”
“Hand me my pants, Burt?”
“Nah, little man. I want you to stay naked. I might want it again.”
“My stomach’s hurting, though.”
“What? Are you sick?” Burt asked.
“Nah, I have a sensitive tummy.”
Burt poked Drew softly in the stomach. “My poor baby,” he said. Drew figured Burt should have known by now that “my stomach is hurting” was code for “you’ve pissed me off, and now I’m not in the mood.”
“Can we talk about the plan, Burt? Are you looking at properties?”
Burt laughed. Drew watched Burt’s rolls of fat jiggle and suppressed judgment. “We still have a lot to go.”
“We’re on the letter V. The last is the Wynn.” Drew reached down and retrieved a binder from under the bed. Burt laughed again when he saw it, but there was no mirth in it.
“Little man’s all business. Did I mention the Thunderbird re-opened as the Aruba? We still have to do that,” said Burt.
“That’s under, what do you call it, Addendum Two.”
“And the South Coast. That should open next year.” Burt pushed the papers from Drew’s hands and started kissing him. Drew inched away.
“The South Coast isn’t part of the written agreement, Burt.” It wasn’t, was it? Dyslexia sucked.
“But it will be fun.” Burt went for Drew’s mouth again. “And the Golden Palm and the Mardi Gras aren’t in the agreement, but we have to do them, too.”
“Burt, why? There were seventy-three on that website and now we only have six more. The Venetian, The godforsaken Western, The—”
“Little man, calm down.” Burt sat up and looked down at his hands.
“How about I give you the Golden Palm and the Mardi Grad and skip the Western?”
“Handsome, I’m not liking how this feels. Is this all business?”
Drew bit his lip. He rubbed Burt’s shoulder as an image of Rahim, whom he shouldn’t be thinking about, scolded him for being crazy materialistic.
“I need a kiss,” Burt said, pouting. Drew turned his neck to meet Burt’s lips. “That’s better,” Burt said. “You know it hurts my feelings that this is all about the casino.”
But it wasn’t. Burt didn’t know that? “You said I couldn’t fall in love. Because of your wife, it had to be strictly sex.” Rules, procedures, contracts. Shouldn’t sex just be fun? And then, if you do your best to make a man happy and be a good boy, maybe he’ll give you presents?
Burt grabbed Drew’s ass. “While I will never tire of fucking you if I could have this every day for a thousand years, it would be…nice to be loved.”
“But your family? They love you, right?”
Burt huffed. “You know what I mean. Loved by someone who really knows me. Like you.”
Drew thought for a minute. “I trust you, and trust is a type of love.”
Burt looked sad. “That’s sweet, little man. You’re good to me, but there’s someone else, yes?”
Drew was silent.
“You get a lot of texts from one person. I noticed he has his own ring tone. He’s handsome. Indian, I think. You keep changing his picture on your phone.”
Drew shrugged. “I’m lonely without you, too. I see you maybe four days a month.”
“See? I come in second. I don’t like it, but there it is. At least I get something, and in return I’ll give you your dream.”
Drew swallowed. This felt awful. Drew couldn’t help but hear Rahim’s opinion about this arrangement in his head. But right now he was with Burt, who shouldn’t have to be sad. No one should. Drew closed his eyes and snuggled in closer.
“Do we have to do the Western?” Drew asked.
“Yeah, baby,” Burt said. Drew felt like there was almost a whimper in Burt’s voice—as if his heart would break if they didn’t follow the plan to the letter.
“Can I tell you about my casino?” Drew asked.
“Is it still called the Zanzibar?” Burt’s voice was steady again.
“Yes, sir. It’s going to be the best one.”
“Will hot boys like you deliver the drinks?”
“Sure!” It made Drew happy that this part of their ritual still made Burt’s eyes light up. “Since Zanzibar is in Africa, we’ll have an African restaurant.”
“They have food in Africa?”
“Oh, come on, Burt.” Drew tickled Burt’s stomach, getting the high-pitched giggle he liked, but which Burt wished he didn’t possess. “And Zanzibar was known for pirates and such. So I’d call the disco ‘Den of Thieves.’ You know, something that will get the reviewers to say ‘How appropriate for Vegas.’ Everyone will remember it.”
“You have a good imagination, little man. It’s not a bad idea. Speaking of themes, there’s gonna be a Spanish concept casino, too. Las Ramblas. Some big Hollywood actor is involved. We’ll have to do that one when it opens.”
Drew frowned. “You’re gonna have me give up my ass another year, aren’t you?”
Burt inhaled. “I’m…not sure anyone would blame me.”
Besides your wife and kids? Drew pulled away and sat up. “Could you start looking? Maybe something on Flamingo Road?”
“There’s the issue of available capital. Selling the Silver Strike didn’t work out, so I’m keeping it and refurbishing.”
Drew knit his brow as he remembered the rundown casino Burt owned in the farthest reaches of Henderson. It struck Drew as a place where people with broken dreams broke them further with every spin of the reels.
But Drew had been patient long enough. “Please. We’re going to be done soon.”
“I will when I can. They say Helen had the face that launched a thousand ships. And you definitely have the ass that can earn a casino.”
Drew winced. The compliment didn’t feel the same as it had before. “Thanks,” he said.
Burt ran his hands down Drew’s sides until they found the meat of his rear. “Hell, a whole gambling empire if you wait and we keep going.”
“Please, Burt.”
“I don’t want this to end, little man. This is fun, right? It’s one big adventure.”
Chapter 3: The Venetian
“You can quit pinching me, Drew. I know I’m not dreaming.”
“A sunken living room in a hotel unit, Rahim. Can you believe this canopy bed?”
“Yes. Of all the things we’ve discussed, it’s one of the more believable.”
“I think my casino should have beds like this,” Drew said. The mattress was so comfortable, Drew wondered why guests ever left their rooms. “I hope I can have black crushed-velvet canopies. With jungle gree
n accents. Hey! Let’s order room service. Burt always lets me.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“C’mon, Rahim, spending tonight with you is supposed to be the best night of our lives. Why are you so down?”
“I want you to quit.”
Drew shook his head. “Why would I?”
“This time when I watched him fuck you, I felt jealous.”
“But you and I have done so many three-ways without Burt. Why would watching—”
“I know you love me. I know you love getting fucked by me. And I admit I love watching you. But this? No.”
“Because he’s overweight? Old? Ugly?”
“Because you cuddled. That’s different.”
Drew frowned. “I can’t stop that.”
Rahim held his hands out, palms up, in a “you’ve proved my point” gesture. “And, the way you look at this whole thing. ‘Oh, I’ll never get anywhere unless I put my ass in the air and let a rich man stick his dick in it.’ Is that healthy?”
“Fine. I want the casino, but I admit I’m into this.”
“That wasn’t the question. I asked if it was healthy. But I know the answer and so do you.”
“Then how do I get what I want?”
“Some other way? I don’t know much about life, but if you don’t think you can get a better job than valet, why do you think you’d like owning and running a casino?”
Drew closed his eyes. He hated logic. Logic sucked. Dyslexia sucked. He wanted his dream. And he knew how to get Rahim to shut up.
“Yeah, maybe I should think more. You’re right, maybe. I can’t be a total bottom boy and have anyone respect me.” He turned away, curling up in dejection and giving Rahim a view of his rump at the same time. “Besides, my ass gets so sore sometimes that I feel like I shouldn’t give it up to anyone for a week.”
Rahim growled. His fingers found their way between Drew’s thighs, squeezing and massaging. “I don’t know if it’s a bad thing to be a total bottom boy.”
“You don’t?”
“I think it’s perfect for you. But your trick isn’t working. I need your answer to this: Why would a billionaire with everything to lose honor a contract about butt fucking?”
“Rahim, I saved the Venetian for you. You know I needed you for the Western because there’s a good chance the number Burt finds is gonna be creepy. He knows who you are, but I risked pissing him off so you could have this.” Drew spread his arms to indicate the expansive room. “You used to be just as into it.”
“The answer to my question is that Burt is crazy. He is the whole Howard-Hughes-billionaire-off-his-rocker package. He’s obsessive to the point that he can’t think. The same for you.”
“How could he run a business and not be sane, Rahim?”
“If he were sane, he wouldn’t have the need to do every hotel no matter how much of a shit hole it is.”
“Now I’m thinking I should have asked you to do the Western.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think of it either,” said Rahim. “But the whole problem, and I mean the whole problem, is Burt being an idiot.”
Drew rubbed his fingers together, itching for a cigarette. He’d given them up for Rahim. And alcohol. And meat. Drew would give up anything for him except getting fucked on Burt’s command. Although now that Rahim had clearly asked, he felt himself grinding his teeth and biting his lip.
“Can we talk about the Zanzibar?” Drew asked, unable to keep the waver out of his voice.
Rahim sighed. “Okay, baby.”
“Burt liked the idea of the nightclub, so you know what we’re going to do with it during the day, right? Your fashion shows!”
“Yeah? That’d be nice, I guess.”
“No other casino has thought of daily fashion shows. You’ll have a boutique in our shops so people can buy what they see on the runway. And we’ll have other designers, too. Maybe, uh, some friends of yours…” Drew sensed Rahim had stopped listening. “Like Rodan and Mothra.”
Rahim’s expression was blank. He stared across the room and out the window at the low, ugly buildings east of the Vegas Strip. Drew had to save this night.
He sat up, stretched, and rubbed his chest. “I hope Burt doesn’t want to come back to fuck me again.” He started to ease himself off the bed. “You guys made me so sore, all I want to do is hobble over there to close the curtains and fall asleep. Seriously, Rahim, you’re not allowed to fuck me for a week.”
Fingers dug into his hips. Rahim pulled him to the mattress. Drew squirmed in mock-protest as Rahim put his legs in the air.
“You can’t deny me your ass ever, boy.”
His boyfriend was only six months older. The same conflict bubbled up inside as Rahim lubed Drew’s hole. No, there’s no way my head will handle it. I can’t be an executive and feel like my main use to everyone is being a bottom boy.
As Rahim slid home, Drew moaned, then bit his lip hard to focus on a pain other than the stretching of his hole. In no time, Rahim’s slow, powerful thrusts combined with the look of ownership in his eyes had Drew pushing his legs back farther.
This was what he was. He couldn’t escape it, and that fact overwhelmed him with pleasure.
Rahim’s eyes began to roll back, but he shook off the delirium so he could speak. “I love you. I love you so much. I wish you could feel the adrenaline pumping through me right now, so you’d know how much. I want you to have this bliss.”
The bed shook, and each time Rahim’s dick slammed into Drew’s ass, Drew yelped from the pain and humiliation he was addicted to. Rahim was so lost in frenzy, he couldn’t know how much he’d stretched and strained Drew’s legs. His iron-hard erection told Drew the extent of Rahim’s hunger for his ass. It was as if Rahim had no control over the need to pound Drew’s hole even as he kissed and caressed him. Each jolt of pain made Drew smile and moan. His eyes were closed and his head back, off the mattress and lolling in rhapsody. But, God, the ache. Drew was close to tears by the time they both erupted in climax.
Drew kept his eyes closed and took shallow, rapid breaths. He just had to get through the next few seconds of burning and stretching.
Rahim collapsed on top of Drew, holding him tight and kissing his neck. “Baby, you give me so much fucking more than you give anyone else. I want you to have whatever you want. You know what I think, but if there’s the slightest chance.”
Drew’s voice was weak and hoarse. “Maybe there’s not. I don’t know. But let me just…let me just see. When I get past the Western it will be downhill from there.”
Chapter 4: The Hospital
“I wish you hadn’t worn those pants in that neighborhood,” Rahim said, pushing his chair next to Drew’s IV unit.
“The injuries aren’t that bad,” Drew said. “I’ll be out of here soon.”
“You’re dyslexic, not deaf,” Rahim said. “You heard what the doctor said.”
“The broken ribs will heal,” Drew mumbled. But his leg was so bad, he might not walk again without crutches.
Rahim had been harsh all day, but Drew thought he deserved his anger. “Hey, I know it’s not the Venetian, but this hospital bed is kind of comfortable. Come snuggle up.” Rahim’s face softened. He walked around to the far side of the bed and climbed in with caution.
“I didn’t want to do anything mean, but I’m wondering if I’ll have to take legal action to make Burt start building,” Drew said.
Rahim shook his head, his annoyance returning. “There’s nothing in the contract that says he has to start anything before you’re finished. Forget it, Drew.”
“I can still ask next time I talk to him.”
“Drew, did you see what he sent you?” Rahim pointed to a large teddy bear.
“He sent me that? I thought that was from you. How cool! I knew he was thinking about me.”
Rahim got out of bed and brought the bear over to Drew.
“Look at what the note says,” Rahim said
We had a good run, Little Man. It was fun.
Feel better—B.
Drew read it several times before putting it down.
“I wish I hadn’t been right,” Rahim said. He climbed back into bed.
Drew was silent for a moment. Rahim laced his fingers with Drew’s.
“Let’s talk about the Zanzibar,” Drew said.
Rahim didn’t speak.
“I think we’ll have beds like this one, Rahim. The kind that you can push a button and it sits you up.”
“Look, maybe Burt was jealous of me—”
“I was thinking we could do better than a shuttle to the Strip,” Drew said.
“—and maybe we can rule out that he’s dropped out of sight to avoid any kind of scandal because he’s been running that risk all along—”
“I think I’ll talk to the Rio and the Palms. We’ll have an extension of the monorail come our way and then connect on the Strip at Bally’s.”
“So then this goddamned teddy bear confirms that he only wanted your ass. Since maybe getting mugged and beaten wrecked your body so much that you’ll be in too much pain to get fucked again, then that’s why he’s gone.”
“I bet you’re not into the idea of a buffet—fuck, what if you’re right?”
“Believe the note, Drew. It’s over.”
“It’s over? With you?”
“Sweetie, no, but I’m not just angry with Burt.” Rahim squeezed Drew’s hand.
“If I can’t still be, you know, your champion bottom, you’d still want me around?”
“Yes. I’m sure you can see in my eyes that I’d miss that, so I can’t lie. But I’m not going anywhere. Answer this: What’s my favorite thing?”
“What if I can’t park cars now? And if Burt’s not around for my hospital bills, then, shit. I’ll have nothing to offer you or anyone.”
“Hello? What’s my favorite thing?”
“Cuddling?”
“And I’m sure you’re still aces at that. And then I have memories and you have imagination. If you need to feel like the desirable boy you are, I can tell you about all the things I loved doing to you.”
