by John Charles
Before he could voice any additional comments, Eyanna said, "Ask him. The mayor of Clarkesburgh is on the phone."
"Good afternoon mayor," I said while Eyanna stood in the open doorway. "Eyanna said you might need some help with your new police station." Well, I'll be damned. The town of Clarkesburgh had been looking at Dentren Designs for several months and they felt it was time to contact us. "Why now, we just lost the Monroe City Center project to an outside company?"
"We have researched several design build firms, including Dentren Designs. Though the others are good, we found your projects to be superior. Frankly, I'm flabbergasted that you came in second for the Monroe City project and who the hell is Phila-Designs, anyway? They’ve never come onto our radar."
I explained that Phila-Designs is from the west coast and only entered the contest to get a foot in a new area of the country. "I'm sure they didn't expect to win especially since they only sent a rep for the press conference. Be that as it may, we came in second to a west coast firm with no reputation in our towns."
"Thank you for your humility, Forrest. We need a new police station, one that will let our city know that the police department is strong, yet approachable. It has to be modern, have all the latest technologies, and yet be a place that the everyday citizen would feel comfortable walking into. You up for the challenge?"
I told him we were and were flattered to be on the short list. "We've never done a police station so we'll need help with the jails and the technology you require."
"You're not on the short list Forrest. The city council met last night and decided to award you the project if you wanted it. And don't worry about the technology part, we are working with the FBI on that. A liaison will be assigned to you during the entire project, from design to build. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes, sir we do. Expect an email from Eyanna, my office manager with our standard contract. Once signed, we can meet to further develop your requirements."
"Thank you Forrest. I thought for a while, that you might not have the resources if you won the Monroe project, so in my own personal way, I'm glad you came in second. Have that contract sent over and I'll give it to the town attorney's for review."
With that and a little small talk, we closed the call. I leaned my head back in my chair staring at the ceiling. A minute later, I realized that Eyanna had walked from my office. Wow, that was bizarre. Never even knew that Clarkesburgh was looking for a new police station and certainly didn't know we were on their list. I think we need more staff sooner than later.
The day was a long roller coaster ride. From the uptick in the morning anticipating the press conference, to the downward spiral when we lost, to my staff saying they were okay and that they wanted to work with me, and then to the project in Clarkesburgh. My head was still spinning when I closed the office at ten that night.
That's when another pang hit me. I missed talking to Lance as I drove home. Our commute chats had become part of my life. I missed his voice, missed his laughter, missed hearing about the estate sales his mother orchestrated, but most of all, I missed him. Lance had wormed his way into my heart and now my heart ached. I thought about calling him but soon dropped that thought. He had made it clear, he didn't want a hook up, and felt he could not stand next to a celebrity, even though I was not one, he still felt that way.
I drove home in a quiet car, no radio, no texts, and no calls. My mind was too tired to think as I neared my street so I drove on autopilot, parked, and entered my building. My head hit the pillow with only one thought, I miss you Lance!
Chapter 11
It had been two weeks since Lance walked out of Forrest's life. He busied himself with work attempting to clear his backlog of projects and trying to keep his mind off the first man that made him feel special. His friends pulled him out to the club on several occasions, knowing that he was in a personal slump, but their efforts didn't help. He sat with them and practically ignored the hot guys attempting to flirt with him.
He wondered why he felt so deflated. His work was fulfilling, his clients loved their restored gems, and his mother continued to insist he work with her at the estate sales, thus giving him more refinishing projects. Yet he felt lost, even empty at times, as if his best friend went off to summer camp without him. He agreed to go to the club Friday night, only to get his friends off his back. "You can't sit home every night," they said when they invaded his apartment. "Come with us and have some fun."
He begrudged their efforts, changed into something a bit more enticing and tagged along. Of the three hot gay clubs in Amity and Monroe, The Hole was most popular. It was bigger, had a better dance floor, several DJ stations, and four bars. The Hole also had three different rooms, giving club goers a choice of music and surroundings. Clearly, the owners had scoped out the other clubs and combined the best features of each into one.
Lance looked around the dance floor and found the regulars shaking their bodies to the heady music coming from the huge speakers. He loved to dance and often joined in, even without a dance partner. He would meander to the floor, start moving his body to the rhythm of the beat, and more often than not; become encircled by others as he took the music into his soul. Tonight, he couldn't feel the beat, didn't want to be out there in the midst of those enjoying themselves, and didn't even want to drink. He felt empty.
One past fling sat next to Lance, put his hand on Lance's thigh and leaned close to his ear. "I can help you forget whoever caused you all this pain. Come home with me and let me show you how to feel alive again." Lance didn't want what was being offered. Dale's persistence wore him down. "You know we'll have fun." They had hooked up on several prior occasions and they did have fun. He agreed.
Before Forrest, Dale was the guy for Lance. He was an electrician who worked with his hands, was a blue-collar worker who appreciated a good beer, danced like his life depended on it, was a great fuck, and enjoyed Lance's company. It had been almost a year since they had been together. At that time, Dale had to handle a family situation that took him out of town for an extended period. When he returned, he had heard about the guy who swept Lance off his feet and politely stayed away from him. Now, however, he felt it was appropriate to let himself back into the sack with the man who he liked and enjoyed being with.
During the short drive to Dale's apartment, Lance wondered if he was making a mistake. He enjoyed Dale's company, loved the way their sexual appetites melded, and enjoyed sleeping with Dale cradled in his arms. But Dale was not Forrest and even though Lance walked away from him, he had tasted what Forrest brought to the table. He had also tasted their differences, differences he didn't enjoy; differences that made him feel small and insignificant. Dale and he were closely aligned, had very similar tastes, and even though Dale was a licensed electrician, he was a blue-collar worker just as Lance was. Both men had gone to school and learned a trade that would keep them happy and reasonably financially secure. Neither was college material and both knew that a good craftsman was always in demand.
So why am I thinking about Forrest when I love fucking Dale? He drove slower than normal allowing his mind to work through the issues. He was not cheating, he was not overstepping his bounds, he was not doing anything wrong, nor was he doing anything behind Forrest's back. Damn, why am I so worried about what Forrest will think? He and I are not even talking, so fuck him. I'm going to have some fun again. With that thought in mind, he allowed himself to relax a bit.
Dale smiled as he watched his buddy exit his car. He reached for Lance and pulled him tight to his body as they hugged on the street in front of his apartment building. Though Lance was not into public displays, he felt good in Dale's arms, against Dale's hard body, feeling Dale's excitement press against his own. Dale turned Lance around, pressed him against the side of the car, pushed himself into Lance's back, and said as he pressed his jeans covered erection against Lance's ass, "I missed this, my friend and I can't wait to tap it again. You gonna give it up for me or are you gonna make me work for
it?"
Lance knew, from their prior fun together that Dale was a power bottom who enjoyed the game with extreme passion. The two times he topped Lance, Dale almost had a heart attack. He was not a top, but let on that he could take Lance down. "If you think you can handle it, I'll give it up. But before I do, please make me your beneficiary. At least then, I'll get something out of it," Lance teased. He turned in Dale's arms, pulled him back into a hug and whispered, "Let's take this upstairs before the neighbors call the cops again. I don't want a repeat of the last time." They both laughed as they walked, arm-in-arm, to the door of the building.
Dale wanted Lance and would do anything to recapture the passion they once had. He took Lance to the bedroom and lifted his shirt up his chest. As he did, Dale's tongue traced the treasure trail that went from Lance's jeans up his sculpted abs to his perfectly formed pecs. He felt Lance shudder as he pulled the shirt above his head. They were the same height and had often commented that each fit into the other's arms perfectly. The shirt off, Dale moved in for the kiss. His lips took Lance's with aggressive possession. He wanted Lance to know that he was wanted, that he was lusted for, that he was more than a one off fling.
It was Lance's turn to hyperventilate. Dale was giving him exactly what he needed, a distraction that brought his inner lust to the surface. He allowed all thought to disappear and let Dale lead the way. They had played this game several times in the past. Though Dale was a bottom, he loved taking charge of the man who would fuck him into nirvana and tonight, Lance wanted to be led; to be taken, to be in someone else's control.
Naked and lying on the bed, he watched Dale strip, slowly revealing every hard muscle, strong arms, legs and ripped abs. Dale was a perfectionist. When it came to his body, he spent hours toning and sculpting himself into the perfect male form, knowing it would drive everyone crazy with lust. It was doing exactly that to Lance. Dale was commando and his rock hard cock was imprisoned as he pulled the jeans down his legs. Suddenly his cock slipped free, bounced to his abs with a slap, throwing precum in the air as it did.
He straddled Lance, took Lance's cock into his hand and looking into his eyes, said, "I missed this." He leaned down and kissed the wet, shiny tip. He heard the moan of pleasure that came from the man beneath him. He licked, nipped, and blew onto the rock hard cock in his hand. He then licked his way up Lance's hard body, driving him further into the depths of lust. Lance was stimulated by Dale's actions, by his teasing, by his hard body rubbing on his own. When Dale reached Lance's face, he kissed the man with so much passion Lance thought he would blow his load between their bodies. Yes, Dale knew how to please his man and he especially knew how to please the man under him. After what seemed like hours, Dale reached to his nightstand, found a condom, and lube.
He opened the lube and poured a huge palm full into his other hand; reached behind himself and made sure his channel was well prepared, without ever losing eye contact with the man who he straddled. He then rolled the condom onto Lances dripping cock. Kissing the man beneath him, Dale lifted his body, aligned himself with Lance and sat, driving Lance deep into his channel. Both men sighed, Lance from the overwhelming feeling of being pulled into Dale's hot body, Dale from the pain of entry. Lance was one of the biggest men he had ever had and it had been too long since he had Lance inside him.
They fucked in a heated frenzy, both men wanting to get off as quickly as possible. Once their initial lust was satisfied, they enjoyed each other three more times. Lance fell asleep with Dale cradled in his arms not knowing or caring what time it was.
*****
The estate sale had been schedule to open at 8 on Saturday morning. Emily made sure her workers were early to set up the check out table and double check the price labels on the items in the house. Unlike the Albert's house, this one was pristine, the furniture elegant, and the accessories worth a small fortune. Her mailing list of prospective shoppers responded in unusual fashion, with hundreds in line before dawn. This would most probably be Emily's best project in all the years she worked her business.
"Has anyone seen Lance?" she asked her staff. "It's not like him to be late." Reaching for her ever-present cell phone, she hit the speed dial button and waited. Lance's groggy voice accosted her ear on the third ring. "Where are you, it's almost time to open the sale?"
Realizing his mistake, Lance jumped from Dale's bed, threw on his clothes and drove like a maniac across town. By the time he arrived, Emily was furious. Several people had inquired about his services and others required help with the items they had purchased. "I'm sorry mom, got in late and forgot to set my alarm." He didn't stand around for her reply and quickly walked through the massive house to see if anyone needed help.
After a long and worthwhile day, Emily closed the door as the last shopper walked out. She sighed as she leaned against the door, knowing her staff would be anxious to get the house cleaned up and ready for the Sunday rush. As they left the now spotless home, Emily caught Lance by the elbow, "Hold back a minute," she said as the other staff members drove away. "You've been avoiding me all day. I'm not angry with you anymore." She turned Lance and looked into his eyes. "Where were you?"
This was his mother, the woman who knew him better than he did. "I spent the night with Dale and we crashed kinda late," he said looking down. Sometimes he wished she were not so involved in his life, so nosey, so caring; but those were some of her best traits and he couldn't argue with her.
"Dale, I thought you were dating Forrest. What happened, Lance?" Her tone was more than motherly it was strong and demanding.
"It's a long story. You sure you want to hear it?" Lance hoped she would say no, but he knew she wouldn't.
"Yes I want to hear it, so follow me home. I'll cook while you talk."
As Emily cooked, Lance explained what happened with Forrest. He told his mother about the city center contest, about the people who approached him on the street already knowing Forrest's name, about their differences in earnings, about Forrest's lifestyle and how it all made him feel small and insignificant.
Emily listened to her son with that motherly ear, listening for more than the words, but for the hidden feelings, the underlying tone that told her there was more to this than Lance was saying. "So you like him and don't know how to handle it, right?"
"Mom, weren't you listening? We're so different. We live in two completely opposite worlds; he has money and fame while I have neither." Lance sat at the breakfast bar while Emily dished out his favorite meal. After placing a plate in front of her son, she set one for herself and sat on the stool next to Lance.
"When you fall in love with someone, you learn to have a blind eye for the differences between the two of you. Does he treat you like a laborer or like and equal?"
Lance heard the love word and wondered why she said it. "I don't love him mom. It's just I can't get him out of my mind. And no, he doesn't treat me like a laborer. In fact, he treats me with more respect than most of my friends do. What does that have to do with anything?"
Emily put her hand on Lance's chest, turned herself to look directly at him and said, "Listen to this, not what's up there," she pointed to his head. "If your heart aches, then you need whatever will fix it. Have you told him how you feel?"
"No. We haven't spoken in over two weeks."
"Why not? And why were you in Dale's bed last night. If you want things to work out with Forrest, you need to get your lust under control." By now, Lance was accustomed to his mother's directness. She didn't mince words and always told her son what she thought was best for him.
"I walked out of his apartment after I saw all those articles in the papers." His head in his hands, he continued without making eye contact with Emily. "I told him it wouldn't work, that we were in two different leagues, and that I didn't want it anymore."
Though Emily was shocked at what Lance had done, she tried to hide her feelings. An arm on her son's back, she leaned close and with a comforting voice said, "And now you miss him and don't know
how to crawl out of the hole you dug for yourself." It was more than a question, she knew Lance and knew how he felt. "Go to him, explain what you felt, tell him why you walked out, and ask him to take you back."
Lance lifted his head and looked at his mother wide eyed. "I can't. Maybe you could, but I can't. And why would he take me back when I walked out?"
"Oh Lance, the heart does some weird things when it hurts. If he feels the about you, then he'll not only take you back, he'll love you even more. Don't call him; go see him in person. Get the balls to do this for yourself or you'll always wonder what could have happened."
Chapter 12
The drive from Amity to Clarkesburgh should have been enjoyable. Once out of the Amity city limits, the country is beautiful, green, and welcoming. Though Amity is a small city, it sits in an area of the country that is filled with rural towns, country roads, and acres of farmland.
Forrest chose to drive part of the trip on country roads so he could capture the splendor of the area. His parents would take the family on drives when he was younger, but he never appreciated the country as he did now. Farm after farm bordered the road; small towns dotted the landscape, some only two or three stores in size. He had a full tank of gas so he knew he could drive for hours without the need to fill up. Satellite radio played show tunes, everything was perfect, but it wasn't.
Sure, he was driving to Clarkesburgh to see a new client, but he had come in second to a west coast firm on the most important project in his career. Who remembers the silver medalist in any Olympic competition? No one, that's who; and to add insult to injury, the man I was falling in love with walked out of my live. He was deep in his self-pity party and nothing seemed to help. He loved listening to show tunes, yet today they bored him. He loved driving, not today. He enjoyed alone time since he rarely got much, not this time. This sucks!
He slammed his open palm on the steering wheel three times, as he cursed. He needed a break, found a wide shoulder near a meadow and pulled over. He took a blanket from the trunk of the car, grabbed a water bottle and walked about ten feet into the meadow. Lying on the blanket, staring into the bright blue sky, Forrest allowed his mind to wander. I am so fortunate, I've built an amazing business, have a dedicated staff that really does enjoy working at Dentren Designs, have the best assistant in the world, and here I am feeling sorry for myself. Not good!
