by GA Hauser
“Men’s hundred,” Jordon said. “My money’s on Tyson Gay.”
“He’s fucking awesome.” When Jordon’s hand began stroking Tyler’s hair, Tyler smiled. He had been hoping Jordon would touch him. It was one of the reasons he wanted to be on Jordon’s lap. One reason. There were a few hundred. “The Jamaican is phenomenal too. I love these guys. They are so buff.”
“They are. Like they’re made of bronze and steel.”
Tyler tucked his hands under Jordon’s leg. It felt cozier. “You sure this is okay?”
“It’s fine, Tyler.”
Tyler snuggled in for a nice, long cuddling bout of Olympic bliss.
***
Jordon dug his hand through that thick mane of black-gold hair and lost track of the events on the field. Instead, he took pleasure from the way the television’s glow highlighted Tyler’s cheekbone and square jaw. Jordon was so in love with him he could gaze at him all night.
Chapter Ten
Saturday morning, a noise woke him. Jordon stirred, seeing the clock read eight-fifteen. He squinted his eyes at the brightness and once again heard sounds. He pushed the sheet off his body and walked in his briefs to the front room.
“Hi, babe. Just got in. I’m wiped out.” Fawn left her luggage and set her purse on the table.
“You look it.” Jordon gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek.
“I’ll shower later. I just want to lie down.”
He reached out his hand to her, escorting her into his bedroom. Jordon sat her on the bed and helped her remove her uniform. Crouching down, he tugged off her high heels as she unbuttoned her top.
Once she was in just her bra and panties, she entered the bathroom, closing the door. Jordon walked around pulling the dense curtains over the windows to darken the room for her.
He sat on the bed, waiting as she finished.
She headed to a drawer in his bureau. With her back to him, she unhooked her bra and slipped on one of his t-shirts. A minute later she was under the blankets, facing away from him.
It wasn’t a cold reception; it was exhaustion. He knew that.
Jordon tucked her in, kissed her cheek, and let her sleep. He took his jeans and a shirt from his closet, then tiptoed out and closed the door, dressing in the kitchen. Jordon started a pot of coffee dripping and knew Fawn would need a good four or five hours of peace. He couldn’t imagine working her schedule.
He headed to one of the spare baths to brush his teeth and shave. Jordon looked around the room, reaching for one of the towels draped over the bar. He raised it to his nose and inhaled it to see if a scent was left of Tyler. No scent of Tyler, just soap. He removed them, placing them in the hamper, and replaced them with fresh towels. There was a presence of Tyler in that room now. He had showered in it every day that week. Jordon wanted to close his eyes and meditate in it, conjuring him up to keep him company.
Even with his fiancée in the next room, Jordon felt isolated.
***
Tyler knew Fawn was expected today.
A day off, Saturday, he spent the mornings doing errands and trying not to call Jordon just to hear the sound of his voice.
The groceries purchased, his suits at the cleaners, his apartment neat and tidy, Tyler sat at his computer to catch up on the latest wedding trends in Europe and Asia. It was all the rage and New Yorkers liked to be on the cutting edge of style. An hour surfing through bridal fashions from Oleg Cassini to Vera Wang and the gang, Tyler grew bored. He wasn’t the type of man to salivate over chic or get an erection staring at a pair of shoes. He knew gay men who did. Those men didn’t turn him on.
Time to quit working and play on the computer. Tyler entered his MySpace site to see if anything interesting was happening. He checked who wanted him as their “friend” and deleted the comments and applicants who solely pontificated about his porn films.
Bryan Buck had sent him another email. He felt obligated to read it, though he knew the little brother was a pale shadow of his older, more gallant sibling. Yet, sadly, he was the gay man of the two.
Tyler -- loved the spit-roasting scene you had in Bottom Up. Christ, you’re hot!
He flinched. “Fuck off!” Before he deleted it, he actually typed those two words in a reply email to him. Once he sent it, he eliminated Bryan from his list of friends. “Asshole.”
Degraded instantly, Tyler was about to shut off the computer. Instead, he typed Jordon’s name into Google and had a look. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, warding off the evil spell of his youth. Tyler actually found something with Jordon Buck’s name on it and entered the site of a prestigious business journal. He read an article quoting the handsome stockbroker on the current state of the economy. Tyler could only be more impressed. One last site showing Jordon’s name drew his attention. Before he shut the computer down, he opened the site. It was an announcement of the engagement of Fawn Lea to Jordon Buck from the New York Times.
“That I didn’t have to see.” He logged off and sat staring at the blank screen.
***
Jordon checked his watch. It was past noon and Fawn had been asleep for four hours. The debate wore on in his head about whether to allow her to sleep all day or not. He knew her thoughts on it. She didn’t want to be on a reverse time zone, so her internal clock was screwed up.
Jordon decided it was worth a try. He opened the bedroom door, walking in softly, and sat next to her on the bed. He caressed her shoulder. She stirred and gave off an annoyed moan.
“Babe? It’s after noon. You want to get up?”
She asked, “What time is it?” as she rested her forearm over her forehead.
“Twelve-thirty. I wasn’t sure if I should let you sleep.”
“No. I need to get up. I’m just so out of it.”
“Poor thing.” He kissed her wrist.
“Is there coffee?”
“I made a fresh pot. You want me to bring you a cup?”
“Yes.”
He left the room and poured her coffee in her favorite mug, the one with the wet cat hanging off a wall on it that said Hang in There.
When he returned, she was sitting up against the pillows and headboard. “Here ya go.” He handed it to her, joining her again.
“Mm. Good.”
“Was it brutal?” He rubbed her leg through the sheet.
“Always is. We had a quick turnaround in L.A. and not much time to really unwind in between any of the flights.”
“You still love the job?” He pushed her hair back from her forehead as she sipped the coffee.
“I do. I know it’s hard, but I do.”
“You know, once we’re married, you don’t have to work, Fawn.”
“I know. I want to.”
“Tyler left a list of bridal shops for you on the table.”
“Good. I should take him with me. Gay guys are so good with fashion.”
He restrained another admonishment over her constant gay stereotyping. “I’m sure he’d be happy to go.”
“Did you guys get anything done?”
“He booked the hotel, I think the band, and the photographer.”
“Good.”
“Did you have anything in mind in particular for the wedding photos?”
“No. Did you?”
“No. He got us a standard package. It includes an eleven by fourteen portrait.”
She chuckled.
“That’s what I thought. How tacky is that?”
“We can always hide it in the closet.” She drank from the cup again. “I don’t really want any wallet sizes either. The album is enough.”
“I suppose they’re giveaways.”
“Oh. True.” She set the cup down on the nightstand.
“Can I get a hug?” he asked.
“Come here.”
He embraced her and closed his eyes, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Miss me?” she whispered.
“I did.”
“You’re a sweetie.”
She backed up to look at his face. “I’m home two seconds and you’re asking me about my period?”
“Don’t get defensive. It’s just a question.”
“It’s a question about getting laid.”
“And?” He laughed at the inane attitude.
“I just got back from a week on the job.”
“I’m not pressuring you to do it now. Will you calm down?”
“I need a shower.”
When she pushed past him to go to the bathroom, he began to wonder if he’d ever get fucked again. Did sliding an engagement ring on a woman’s finger suddenly kill her sex drive? Was her conquest finished? She seduced, got the diamond ring, now her obligation to make love had been terminated?
“Jesus, she could at least have waited for the day after the honeymoon.”
***
He loitered in the kitchen. When she appeared in one of her flashy outfits -- pink Capri leggings, a silk chiffon floral-printed blouse, and white sandals with spiked heels -- he asked, “Can I make you something to eat?”
“I’ll catch a bite out.”
“Out?”
“I’m meeting Camisha at Bloomies.”
“You want a man’s opinion on clothing selection?”
“No, silly.” She laughed.
“What do you want to do with your bag?” He pointed to her carry-on still propped up where she had dug into it for her present attire.
“Can you sort through it for me? You know, get my uniforms to the cleaners?”
“Can’t you do that?”
“I just got back. I want to play.”
“Then I’ll leave it for you for when you’re done playing.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No. But I’m also not your slave.”
Her expression hardened. “Fine. You want sex? Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and began leading him to the bedroom.
“That isn’t what I meant, Fawn.” He halted their progress. “It’s not a bartering process, I get screwed, and you get your laundry done.”
She replied, “Why not? Works for me.” She kicked off her shoes.
He waited to see if she was bluffing.
“Well?” She took off her pants and shirt.
“Finally,” he mumbled, undressing.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shed his clothing quickly, located a condom from the drawer, and placed it on the nightstand.
When she was undressed, she reclined on the bed.
He knelt on the mattress, stared down at her, and began jacking off to get himself hard. Her expression of impatience wasn’t helping the mood. Once he had a semi-erection, he lay down on top of her and went for her lips. They kissed, but it was banal, lacking any heat. With his knees, he spread her thighs apart. It seemed he was the one expending the effort as she put up with it wearily.
He tried to motivate her tongue. He got a tiny swirl and not much else, so he gave up on the kissing. He decided on enjoying her small but pert breasts. When he lowered down to take one into his mouth, she whispered, “I don’t have all day.” She tried to say it sweetly, but it was a line that couldn’t be sugar-coated very well.
“I’m doing the best I can.” He reached for his cock and tried to get it hard enough to penetrate. Lord knew when his next chance would be. This one shouldn’t be squandered.
He slid on the rubber and got into position. Once he was inside her, he shivered at the sensation and closed his eyes to savor it. It’d been so damn long since he was in a hot body that he’d forgotten what it felt like. He leaned up on his hands and began pumping, the climax beginning to rise in him. He stared at her breasts and the connection between their two bodies, then made the mistake of looking at her face. She was admiring her fingernails.
“What the fuck?” Never had she done that before. It was so incredibly rude that he instantly lost his hard on. “What are you doing?”
“Huh? What?” She truly appeared clueless.
“Do you want to make love to me?”
“Of course I do, Jordy.” She kissed his slack mouth.
It was so patronizing it made him feel sick. “Then why aren’t you into this?”
“It’s just that Camisha is waiting at Bloomingdales. I would put more effort into it if I had time. How about we do this again later?”
He pulled out, seeing the condom barely staying on his limp cock. The minute he disconnected she hopped off the bed, jumping back into her thong and Capri pants.
“We have to talk, Fawn.” He removed the rubber. “I’m not happy about this.”
“It’s no big deal, Jordy. I just don’t have a lot of time right now. It’s not like I won’t do it with you.” She buttoned her top.
“Do you enjoy sex with me?”
“Of course I do, sweetie,” she baby-talked, and kissed his cheek like he was an idiot.
“You do?” He held her from darting out. “You’re not just saying that. You do enjoy it?”
“Yes. I’m not just saying that. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot.” She took back her elbow from his grasp and slipped her shoes on. “So, you’ll get my uniforms to the cleaners?”
“No. I can’t. I have other things I have to do.”
“I thought you said we had a barter system.”
“No. I said it’s not a bartering process. You do your own laundry.” He stood and dragged his briefs up his legs, tossing the barely used condom onto its package on the nightstand.
“Okay, whatever.” She flicked her wrist at him indifferently. “I’ll get the hotel staff to do it.”
He knew that would be on his tab.
“Will you be home for dinner?” He followed her to the living room.
“Depends how long Camisha and I shop.”
“Five hours?” He checked his watch.
“Well, we’ll have a bite first, browse the shoe selection, go to Saks next… you know.”
He grabbed her arms again and drew her close. “Fawn.”
“What, Jordon?”
“We’re going to be married in December.”
“I know! I can’t wait.” She pecked his lips.
“Listen to me. Do you love me?”
“Of course I do, silly.”
“Do you have any doubts about making that kind of commitment to me?”
“No. Should I? Don’t get all weird on me, Jordon. I mean, you don’t seem like the kind of guy who’s going to start being possessive and strangle me. Right?”
“Never. I have no problem with you being an independent woman. But--”
“That’s what I love about you!” she gushed. “I’ll call you if I can’t make it back for dinner.” She moved to the door. “You need anything? Ties? Shirts?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“I don’t mind. I can pick you up a new shirt and tie at Barney’s or something. I love buying men’s clothing. And you look so handsome in a suit and tie, Jordy.” She applied lipstick from her purse, looking into a compact mirror as she spoke.
“I’m fine. Don’t buy me anything.”
“Okay.”
“You need to get the guest list with the names and addresses to Tyler.”
“Right! I’ll call Mom. Maybe she can meet me and Camisha for a drink later. See ya, Jordy. Love you!” She waved, closing the door behind her.
His head was spinning. All her answers were right. The sentiment behind them just didn’t seem to be there.
He returned to the bedroom and gathered up the trash from their attempt and tossed it in the pail in the bathroom. Frustrated, he dressed in his workout outfit, and before he left for the gym, he paused and stared at the phone. If he called Tyler, would they have enough time before Fawn came home to shower and eat dinner?
Because the answer to that question was ambiguous, Jordon worked out alone.
***
The phone rang at five-fifteen. Jordon was reading the newspaper in the den with the Olympic sport
s on in the background, expecting Fawn. He heard his mother’s voice instead.
