by GA Hauser
Taylor chuckled, keeping his eyes closed.
Owen stood off the bed and looked down at Taylor’s entirety. He was so big, so muscular, and so beautiful, Owen wanted to be the submissive one, to kneel on the floor and beg Taylor to always be his. But that wasn’t part of the fantasy. Not this one, anyhow.
Moving back to the foot of the bed, Owen leaned down and kissed the bottoms of Taylor’s feet, gently, softly. Making his way to Taylor’s shins, Owen ran those tender kisses up both legs until he was at Taylor’s hips again. Taylor was already straddled wide from the straps tying him to the bed. Nuzzling his face into Taylor’s balls, Owen rubbed his rough jaw on them, waiting to see if the word “cowboy” would be spoken. It wasn’t.
Continuing to massage them with his scratchy dark shadow, as Owen roughed them up a little, Taylor’s legs tensed and his back arched off the bed. Owen stopped. Was it too hard? Nothing was said. He continued what he was doing. A soft moan met his ears. Obviously, he was on the right track. The bed creaked as Taylor strained against the bindings. Pausing, Owen reached for the tube of lubrication on the nightstand. Using a dab, he wet his finger and lowered back down to be at crotch level with Taylor. Going back to using his rough jaw and cheeks on Taylor’s genitals, Owen slipped his index finger inside Taylor and smoothed it in and out. The bed creaked again, straining under the power of the captive on top of it. More sounds of pleasure emerged from Taylor’s lips. Owen held onto Taylor’s cock with his left hand, again using his face to tease Taylor’s soft skin. His right index finger kept up a rhythm, in and out of Taylor’s butt, massaging as it did, all the right spots inside him.
“Ahh,” Taylor whimpered, his hips elevating once more.
Owen felt his own body surge. His cock was bent to the side in his tight leathers throbbing with his beating heart. Continuing to finger-fuck Taylor, Owen slipped Taylor’s cock inside his mouth. Instantly he tasted the pre-come drop. Thinking Taylor had waited long enough, Owen sucked harder, pushing his finger deeper as he did. Taylor came, grunting and tensing all his muscles. The wooden frame withstood the pulling from Taylor’s arms as he flexed his biceps.
Owen knelt up, staring down at that sight. Opening his leather pants, Owen took out his cock and began masturbating, staring at this unbelievable man.
As Taylor recuperated, Owen shot come all over Taylor’s crotch. Sated beyond his wildest expectations, Owen panted to catch his breath, opening his eyes. Taylor was staring at him. And that look was worth its weight in gold.
Owen stripped off his leather pants, boots, tossed the dog-collar on the floor, then crawled over Taylor’s body to lie on top of him. Before he untied the bindings, Owen whispered, “I…I…”
Through his own breathy gasps, Taylor asked, “You, you?”
“I…I…”
Taylor began laughing, but it was mixed with exhaustion. “You what, baby?”
“Nothing.” Owen couldn’t tell him. He felt like an idiot. Sitting up, he untied Taylor’s arms and legs, dropping the straps to the floor. Once Taylor was free, he wrapped around Owen’s naked body and cuddled him close. “I know, Owen. I know.”
Closing his eyes in relief, Owen felt so much love for Taylor, it hurt.
Chapter Eleven
On Friday morning both of their moods soured. Owen had done his best to pretend the arrangement was permanent, and that every night for the rest of his life he could sleep with the man of his dreams and any worry he may have had of being unloved or alone would vanish.
Then Friday showed up.
Attending a meeting for an audit he had scheduled, Owen felt distracted and not at his best. As he sat with the representative of the IRS and his nervous client, Barry, Owen went through the paperwork to explain deductions, exemptions, and allowances, all the while he was dreading the inevitable day when Taylor left on a Friday night and never came back to LA.
~
Taylor didn’t mind Fridays. On the site most of the guys were more relaxed with the impending weekend, and some left early to get a head start on the traffic. The construction disasters had subsided substantially since the beginning of the project, and the initial disagreements between contractors had smoothed out. Everyone seemed to know what they needed to do, and he was left alone to read over the specs and double check measurements and building codes. He knew damn well it was time for him to leave and for Noah to take over. The guilt started gnawing at him. He considered himself a good man, a good employee, and a good son. By dragging out the weeks he needed to spend in LA, he was none of the above. Sitting down in the portable, in the relative quiet of its interior, Taylor took off his hardhat and rubbed his weary face. He just didn’t know what the hell to do.
~
By four-thirty Owen looked up from his desk and found Taylor’s strained expression as he stood at the doorway. “Out early?”
Taylor nodded. “I usually am on Friday. Gives me a chance to pack and get the rental car back to the airport.”
“We already packed, and you don’t have a rental car.” Owen took his headset off and pushed back his chair from his desk.
“Old habits die hard.”
Owen stood and walked closer to him, caressing Taylor’s hair along the side of his head. “We have a little time before we have to head to the airport. Want to catch dinner out?”
“No. You mind if we don’t? I’m really tired.”
Staring at his worn expression, Owen grew upset. “Let me get going then. We can relax at my place first.”
“Good. Thank you.”
As he shut down his computer and straightened his desk, Owen became concerned. He knew Taylor well enough to know this wasn’t just about them not seeing each other over the weekend. It was more. Trying not to bombard Taylor with all his insecurities and fears about them never seeing each other again, Owen kept quiet and finished what he was doing.
Nodding to Taylor he was done, Owen shut off the office light and followed Taylor into the hall. Owen never lost interest in Taylor’s masculine gait and the way his soft jeans hugged the curves of his ass. Fantastic.
Quiet in the elevator, quiet on the way home in the car, it was becoming obvious to Owen things were not good. Once they had walked through the door to Owen’s kitchen, he finally asked, “Did you talk to your father again?”
“No.” Taylor continued on his way to the bedroom.
Removing his tie, Owen began changing his clothing for the flight later that night. “Taylor, I can tell something is bothering you.”
After kicking off his shoes, Taylor stretched out on Owen’s bed, placing his hands behind his head.
Owen finished changing, wishing Taylor would just tell him what was on his mind. Once Owen had double-checked that he had packed everything he needed, and they had both printed their e-tickets from the computer, Owen dropped down to lie next to Taylor on the bed. “It’s about LA. It’s about you having to leave.”
Taylor inhaled deeply but didn’t reply.
Rolling over so he could see him more clearly, and touch him, Owen smoothed his hand over Taylor’s chest, enjoying how solid his body was. “Are you feeling guilty for sticking around? Is that it?”
A frown found its way to Taylor’s lips.
Owen knew he hit the mark. “Then go, Taylor. Don’t do something you’ll regret for me. Go. We’ll see each other again.”
“When?” Taylor shouted, biting his lip as if he were upset with himself for being so angry.
“I have some vacation time.” Owen shrugged.
Taylor twisted away so his back was facing Owen. Owen could just about see fumes coming off of Taylor he was so upset.
Cuddling closer, Owen spooned Taylor from behind, wrapping his arms around to hug him. “Where is the next job?”
“Cleveland.”
“Crap. Cleveland?”
“Yeah.”
Owen couldn’t even imagine a reason he could make up to go there. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Taylor. “You want me to come with you? It co
uld be our little vacation.” Feeling Taylor pushing back to roll over again, Owen backed up and allowed him. When he caught Taylor’s eyes, he knew he’d said something absurd.
Taylor replied, “Cleveland. You want us to spend our vacation in Cleveland instead of the U.K. Are you some kinda nut?”
“Hey,” Owen defended, “I’m just trying to figure out a way we can be together. Don’t take it out on me. I’m not the one with work in another state.”
Standing off the bed abruptly, Taylor left the room in a huff.
Pausing in his wake, Owen didn’t want it to end like this. No. Not like this. “What am I saying? I don’t want it to end at all!” He jumped off the bed and ran out of the room.
He found Taylor drinking a shot of brandy from a carafe Owen had set out in the dining room, “for emergency purposes only”. This qualified.
“Taylor. Please. Tell me what you want me to do.”
The empty glass in his hand, Taylor replied, “It don’t matter.”
“It does matter! For crying out loud, Taylor!”
As he refilled the tiny shot glass, Taylor said, “I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t. It’d be like someone telling me to do something. I can’t live that way. A man does what he wants. Not what someone tells him to do. That’s why I don’t listen to anything anybody tells me anymore. Not since I was a little boy and my mama told me what to do. Well, guess what, Owen, I ain’t a little boy anymore and neither are you. We’re big grown-ups now, Owen, and no one tells us nothin’!”
Hating to say it, Owen giggled, “Man, your Texas accent is if full swing at the moment.”
“Shut up,” Taylor shouted, but a smile edged through.
“Give me one of those.” Owen reached for the glass.
“You’re drivin’. No way.” Taylor held it back. “Have a Guinness at the airport.”
Nodding in agreement, Owen dropped his hand to his side and watched as Taylor took one more swig, then capped the carafe and set the glass down.
“Okay, Taylor, you’re right. We are men, and we should make our own decisions.”
“Yes.” Taylor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Good. Tell me what you want me to do.”
Blinking first, Taylor then doubled over with laughter, holding his side.
Owen was very glad he had made him laugh. “I already know what I have to do, Taylor. I already know.”
Slowing his laughing fit, Taylor stood up straight and his face became deadly serious again. “I’m not asking you. I did before, and it was wrong. You’re settled here. You got clients to think of, to take care of.”
“I do. But life’s all about priorities, Taylor. And if I am, as you say, all grown-up, which to be honest I don’t feel in the least, but that’s another story…”
“Fast forward, Owen.” Taylor spun his finger around like a circle.
“What I’m saying is, if I move to Denver, then I’ll be near both you and Leah.”
Taylor didn’t speak, just stared at Owen.
Owen was waiting. Wasn’t there supposed to be a celebration? A whooping it up and a high-five slap in victory. Did he get it all wrong again?
“We should get going.” Taylor brushed past Owen to the hall where their suitcases were setting.
“Taylor,” Owen followed him, “aren’t you going to say something?”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Owen took his keys out of his pocket and shut off the interior lights of the kitchen.
“No.”
Perplexed as usual, Owen opened the trunk of the car and they placed their bags inside. Once they were backing out of the drive and on their way to the airport, Owen asked, “Why not?”
~
Taylor rubbed his eyes in agony. How could he make that decision for Owen? How could he influence the man to move, come to Denver, only to find he was on the road so much they would hardly see each other? “Fine!” Taylor shouted in frustration. “You do what you think is best, Owen. But I have to warn you, I travel a hell of a lot.”
“Like how much?”
“How long do you think I’ve been gone working on this project?”
Owen put on his thinking face. “Two weeks?”
“Four. Next one’s in Cleveland. ‘Bout four to five more. Then I have to ask myself where’s my daddy going to send me next? You see? So, say you move. Okay? It sounds perfect, and believe me, Owen, I want you there in Denver. More than you can ever know. Okay, you make that change. You sell your gorgeous house in LA, make the move, say bye-bye to your clients, or whatever…okay? You come stay with me, ‘cause you will, you will stay with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Taylor looked over at Owen’s profile as he drove, merging onto the highway. “I get an assignment, and off I go. That leaves you alone, waiting for me.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“What? What the hell are you talking about? Trust you? With my goddamn life. I’m not talking about trust. I’m talking about getting you all the way out to Denver and leaving you on your own for a month.”
As he drove Owen kept peering over at Taylor, a look of disbelief on his face.
Taylor threw up his hands at the lack of a comment from Owen.
~
Owen was suspicious. He didn’t like the conversation one bit. Didn’t Taylor realize he was already alone in LA? Did Taylor see even a part-time companion and lover hanging around? There had to be another reason for his setting up that kind of defensive roadblock. And with Owen’s track-record of abuse in school and a failed marriage, he was starting to think he needed to be taking the hint here. It was a fling. A fucking fling with a man who was ready to move on to his next conquest. Fine. Screw it.
~
Taylor wondered why Owen wouldn’t say anything. Why on earth didn’t Owen at least say it was okay even part of the time as long as they were together? Where was that reassurance he craved? And why, when Taylor had been so confident and strong with every other relationship, did he feel like he had “needs” with this one? What was it about Owen that made Taylor feel complete when he was around him?
Following road signs to LAX, the two men rode in silence.
~
Owen felt betrayed. Standing in line at the check-in counter, Taylor just slightly ahead of him in line, Owen wondered if this would begin and end on a plane. It had gotten cold between them. Communication had never been Owen’s forte. He was an introvert and hated confrontation. Jenna walked all over him. It was her decision to divorce, move his child from the state, and dictate the rules of their visits and time together. Owen didn’t argue. He hated arguing. He agreed to all her terms of alimony, child support, visitation, whatever she wanted. He didn’t understand why they had divorced, but he figured she must have her reasons. The geek from high school didn’t deserve her anyway. He was lucky she married him in the first place. He was a damn virgin when she met him.
Together Taylor and he approached the counter, handing the woman their printout e-tickets. She clicked away feverishly on her computer, assigning them their usual seats. Taylor handed Owen his boarding pass after giving their bags to the woman to place on the conveyor- belt. Unburdened by luggage, Owen followed Taylor’s lead to security. As they emptied their pockets into a tub, Owen watched Taylor pass through the metal detector. Taylor was stopped and patted down. Owen was told to wait before coming through. Witnessing that young man sliding his hands all over his lover’s body again, Owen grew angry. He didn’t want anyone else touching his Taylor. And that was just the security guy! If Taylor found a new boyfriend, Owen would kill someone.
The uniformed man waved Owen through. No one bothered with him. He met Taylor at the end of the x-ray area and filled his pockets with his wallet and keys again, taking his coat from another plastic tub, as Taylor did the same.
“Enjoy your little pat down?” Owen asked sarcastically.
“I get nailed every time.”
“Maybe he just wants to feel your balls.”
“What the hell’s with you? You think I enjoy being touched by some moron?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Screw you.”
Owen’s pout was now firmly planted on his face. Taylor paused and said, “Look, if you don’t want to hang around with me, just go and do your own thing.”
“Did I say that?” Owen felt crushed.
“No, but you don’t have to. You haven’t spoken a fucking word to me since I mentioned my business trips.”
“You…you…”
“Me? Me? Don’t start stuttering on me, Owen.”
At the condescending tone, Owen spun on his heels and walked away from Taylor. He was so upset he could burst out crying.
~
In agony as Owen walked away, Taylor held back a shout to call him back. Maybe it was better this way. If Owen didn’t want to move to Denver, maybe they should just call it quits and not make some kind of long goodbye.
Seeing Owen vanish in the crowd, Taylor walked to the bar and ordered himself a Guinness.
~
Owen felt his emotions welling up to embarrassing proportions. Stepping inside a men’s room, he stood in a stall and tried to bite back his tears with everything he had. Memories washed over him. Crying in the bathroom in school when bullies had teased him about his braces, being singled out for his shyness, his fear of asking a girl to a dance or out on a date.
Wiping at his eyes roughly, Owen felt as if he hadn’t matured a day from fourteen. Inside, he was still the same pimply, ugly kid. And even though he had managed to marry a pretty woman and now had a great looking man interested in him, Owen didn’t feel his appeal justified that attention. Inhaling, knowing he had to get to the gate sooner or later, Owen left the bathroom stall and washed his hands and face at the sink. When he looked up into the mirror, his eyes were red and watery, and though others in the world may see a handsome man, Owen found a homely misfit in the reflection. Wiping his hands and face on a paper towel, Owen stood tall and decided it didn’t matter what people thought. Many people cried at airports when they separated from loved ones. It didn’t matter.
