Sexy to Go Volume 3
Page 8
Nico, his dark eyes sparkling in the combined illumination of the full moon and the lamplights along the street, let out a deep chuckle. “Hey now,” he chided, “I didn’t say I wanted to go anywhere else. I’m having a good time and I’m not tired.”
Evan nodded. “Good answer.” Damn good. He had to hand it to his co-worker Michelle—she hit the mark with this latest matchmaking scheme. The reed thin Hispanic man—nearly shaven, tattooed behind his ear, likely pierced in places Evan had yet to see—initially didn’t embody Evan’s vision of an ideal mate. Throughout dinner, though, he found he could look past the man’s style to appreciate a maturity and sense of humor he considered attractive.
Evan could only think of spending the next several hours plowing his hard cock into Nico’s tight ass. His yearlong involuntary celibacy had taken its toll. He loved sex, but with recent work hours going long he lacked opportunity. Until now, hopefully.
Watching Nico stretch as he unfolded from the compact cab of his car, Evan relished the tightening sensation in his pants. He hoped he had some usable protection in the house. Nothing spoiled the moment like pressing the pause button on an erection to make a quick trip to the drugstore.
“Thirsty?” Evan asked after ushering Nico into the foyer of his ground-floor home. “I got some IPAs and wine in the fridge, and the bar in the living room is fairly stocked.”
Nico removed his denim jacket and strode deeper into the apartment. Evan admired how the man’s ass swayed as he walked. It looked so inviting and firm encased in those snug jeans...he pictured his cock ramming into Nico’s presumed tight hole and thrilled at the prospect of it.
“I’d love a beer, thanks.” Nico didn’t look back, but instead panned his gaze around the room. Evan understood his guest’s curiosity; most new visitors wondered at the array of souvenirs and personal effects he’d collected over the years. Between the African sculptures and framed photographs of Evan posed in front of various global landmarks, everything told a story. He’d traveled much in his youth, often with a friend.
No. He wouldn’t think about him tonight.
“Just make yourself at home, have a seat anywhere,” he called from the kitchen, wanting the man would take the sofa so they could get cozy.
“Holy shit!”
The exclamation sounded like one of amazement rather than horror, so he didn’t see the need to dash into the living room. Strange, though, for one of his personal effects to cause such a reaction.
He returned to his date, beer bottles in hand, to find Nico holding a photo he normally kept out of sight. A queasy sensation settled in Evan’s stomach. Why did Nico open his desk drawer, where he kept that particular shot? Had he intended to snoop all along?
“You know Terence Jaeger?” Nico smiled a mile wide. “Man, he is my idol. He’s the reason I took drama classes in college.”
So much for nothing thinking about Terence tonight.
Of course it is. All your life, you’ve wanted to meet the movie star, and what luck that Michelle knows my connection to him. Forget all the hot pants feelings from a few minutes ago. Over the last decade, he’d met many guys willing to exchange a fuck for a meet and greet with his closest friend. He should never told Michelle he knew Terence. How could he be certain she didn’t choose to help Nico use him to get to the actor? Like he could get Nico an audition. Ha!
Sometimes he believed his inability to keep a boyfriend lay in his love for Terence. Two gay men, successful in their respective fields, who got along very well. By all accounts they should have been the perfect couple, but their timing sucked. Every time he was single, Terence had a lover and vice versa. Neither could seem to wait for the other.
These days, Terence allowed an old stunt injury to lull him away from the big-budget adventure films and into blissful beach living on the other side of the country, when he wasn’t starring on a hot new TV drama.
“We met a long time ago. That’s a photo op from a sci-fi convention,” he lied gruffly and handed Nico the beer. Already he sensed the conversational tide turning. No way did he want to discuss Terence on a night where he should be the focus, or part of it.
He couldn’t blame Terence, either. He loved the man too much, and Nico’s discovery of the photo only stirred up those feelings. His heart and his cock were no longer into this date.
“Man, I’m jealous.” Nico shook his head, smiling. “What I wouldn’t give to meet him.”
Like your ass, to me?
“He’s alright, a typical actor.” Evan shrugged. “You tend to meet a few in my business. I’m sure Michelle’s told you stories.”
“Oh yeah, we’re pretty tight. We tell each other everything.”
A-ha. It hurt to think his co-worker intended for this date to work as Nico’s springboard to an acting career. Nico would be better off actually going to auditions. He held no silver bullets.
A social media alert chimed on his phone, and he treated it like a phone call. “Hang on a sec,” he told Nico and held the mobile to his ear and waited a beat. His face pulled into a frown. “Aw, shit. When?” he cried, prompting Nico to raise an eyebrow as he pulled on his bottle for a drink.
“Alright, fine. I’ll be over as soon as I can,” he told the dead air, then called up a number and waited for somebody to pick up.
“What’s wrong, Evan?”
“Emergency with one of the tanks. I need to get over there now before we’re knee deep in Pinot Grigio.” He’d surely take an exploding winery over being used any day. “I’m calling you a cab. I’m really sorry to cut the night short.”
Nico looked genuinely crestfallen. “Oh,” he said without emotion, “but this isn’t something one of the other vintners can handle?”
“It’s a small winery, and I am the only vintner. There’s nobody else I’d trust to handle this without me. I’m the one who keeps the place running.” He’d told the guy all of this at dinner, hadn’t Nico listened or was he too busy fantasizing about meeting Terence?
“I see.” No mistaking how Nico’s tone cooled. “You can’t at least drive me home?”
Evan shook his head. “My time is money now, the difference between a good year or bankruptcy.” No way did he want to sit in his car while Nico wheedled for favors.
Mercifully the cab company dispatched a car in the area. In minutes, it pulled alongside the curb by Evan’s building.
Evan moved toward the front door to let Nico out before locking it behind them. He walked his date down to the street and handed the driver a folded fifty through the open passenger window.
Nico wavered by the open back door, looking confused. Should they kiss, shake hands, wave awkwardly? Evan had to sympathize—he hadn’t expected the night to end like this either.
“Right, so, call me later?” Nico asked. “We’ll get together and... hang out.”
“Sure,” he said. It sounded like a lie. In the end, they settled on a casual handshake and Evan walked to his car. He got as far as gunning the ignition and driving to the end of the street, and when cab disappeared around the corner he waited a moment and parked again.
Nico would learn soon enough from Michelle that no tanks leaked. Mischief managed, so the movies said.
Evan trudged back into the house, pulled a bottle of his winery’s reserve Pinot Noir, and drank glass after glass on his couch while the stereo blared classic rock. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the glass on the coffee table with about an ounce left to finish.
* * * *
He woke to a lengthy drum solo, not from the stereo. A few seconds passed before he realized the iPod connected to it had shut off, and his ringtone signaled that Reid, Terence’s partner of two years, was calling him.
“Huh.” Usually Terence got in touch if the men wished to catch up. Terence’s birthday wasn’t anytime soon, so scratch the planning a surprise party theory.
Evan smiled, thinking of his friend’s boyfriend. Reid hailed from Switzerland and spoke perfect English with a hint of
accent. Terence met him at a film festival in France while promoting his last movie, where he single-handedly fought off a drug cartel to rescue his daughter. They split their time between New York and a beach town in Delaware, while Evan watched from a distance and regretted turning Terence down when he invited Evan to accompany him to France two years ago.
Maybe he would be living in Archer Beach with Terence now, sunning on a condo balcony by day and making love at night while the gentle surf serenaded them, when Terence wasn’t filming his show. Assuming he couldn’t convince Terence to move production to California. Reid…you lucky bastard.
He pressed the phone to his ear, noticing the time on the clock. Good lord, midnight here. “What the hell are you doing up at three in the morning,” he scolded lightly, “and why would you think I’d be up late?”
Reid’s throaty laugh buzzed through his brain. “I know damn well you’re a night owl. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’d be up tonight.” His voice quieted down. “Are you busy now with a date? I didn’t want to interrupt...”
“No, I’m good. Rare night alone,” he said, unable to mask the sarcasm in his voice. “So, what’s up? And how is your lesser half?”
“His hearing is excellent, much better than your ability to see long distances.”
“He just flipped me the bird, I bet.” Evan chuckled.
“I stand corrected. Anyway, I have a proposition for you…”
“And I accept. When’s your flight in, do I need to buy the protection, and how do you plan to pull this off without Terence knowing?”
He warmed at the booming laughter on the other end. For all his jealousy of Reid, he liked the guy. Terence picked well this time, and Evan found the occasional ribbing a good defense mechanism for the times he wished for more than friendship. Good thing, too, Terence possessed a strong enough sense of humor to let Evan’s heavy flirting pass without comment.
“You’ll never give up, will you?” Reid teased. “I’m flattered.”
Okay, enough of this. “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour?”
It sounded as though Reid intended to answer, but the noise on the other end indicated the phone had transferred elsewhere. Soon his actor friend’s gruff voice filled his head.
“Am I going to have to come to Santa Barbara to kick your ass?”
“Kick, or kiss?” Lord, why did a shiver of lust spread through his body every time Terence spoke to him? Even this moment of mock anger caused his skin to tingle. His balls tightened and he reached down to stroke his crotch and generate some relief. Damn it, ditch Reid and come here. Two seconds to make a plea, and his passive nature prevented him from confessing his feelings. It would be construed as another joke, probably.
“Okay, speak,” he urged Terence. “You want me to sign up for some pyramid scheme or, God forbid, babysit your damn cat while you and Reid trek the Andes with some Bangladeshi guru?”
“Aren’t the Andes in Mexico?”
Evan sighed. “They sure as hell aren’t here. Terence, I’m happy to talk with you, but I had a shitty night. Maybe we could talk later in the day when I’m feeling more human?”
Then the point, and was it sharp. “Wait. How would you like to run a winery?”
“I do run a winery, bro. How else would you be getting a case of Merlot every Christmas?”
Terence scoffed. “I mean here, in Delaware. Napa of the East.”
“That’s where it is?” Evan tried not to laugh. He’d met many vintners from Virginia and New York at trade shows, all who would readily argue their states deserved the title. “Delaware’s so small. I can’t imagine there’s enough land left to plant vines.”
“Believe it, man. I bought controlling interest of Archer’s Ridge Vineyards after the original owner passed away. His widow decided to retire and move closer to their kids in Florida.”
“Oh, then congratulations. I’m sorry for the woman’s loss, but it sounds like you and Reid have begun a new chapter.”
“Well, here’s the thing: the owner was also the chief winemaker, so there’s a job opening.” Terence’s voice upticked with a heavy hint. Evan should have expected it, but wanted to believe his friend only called for advice on hiring a suitable replacement, not to become one.
He liked the East Coast vintages fine, and sampled what he could find on trips. While he remained partial to California Chardonnays and other native varietals, he had to admit some vineyards in the east produced nice, crisp Viogniers and fruity dessert wines.
To pull up stakes for a job, however, didn’t tempt him. He’d secured a solid reputation in California. With no spouse, kids, alimony or other debts to worry him, he also pocketed enough money for a down payment of a vineyard of his own. If Terence wanted to bring him into his business as a partner, he’d give it some thought. This offer sounded like a regular job.
Besides, why would he want to work in such close quarters with Terence and Reid while they canoodled like teenagers, assuming they weren’t absentee owners?
Yeah, leave me to do all the chores while you go off somewhere and fuck in the grapevines. Meanwhile he’d go to bed alone. No thanks.
“Evan, you there?”
Evan sighed. “Terence, you know I love you guys, and I’m flattered you thought of me first for this…”
A long groan tore through his head and shivered down his spine. “Oh, buddy, I don’t like the sound of that.”
Damn, why couldn’t he simply say no and end it? Moving from an established California winery with national brand recognition to somewhere in Delaware with a regional following at best was risky. For all he knew, this widow jumped at the chance to unload a failing business onto his friend. “I don’t know how schooled you are in the winemaking business, Ter, but I have to ask if you thought this through before you signed anything.”
“I did. I’m going into this eyes wide open.” Terence’s voice gained strength. “I support many local businesses in Archer Beach. Judi and Ed did a great job running things, but over the last year with his health problems things kind of slid off. I had one of their recent vintages and it wasn’t as good as in the past.” A sigh, then, “I don’t know, Evan, I hate to see Archer Ridge disappear, not while Judi’s still alive. She doesn’t own it outright anymore, but she built the place with Ed. I want to make it better for her and the area, for tourism.”
He understood. Terence gave from the heart, well before he became famous. With notability attached to his name he accomplished great things for charities and mom-and-pops. “What kind of wine was it?”
“It was a Norton. The grape’s from Virginia, but Ed planted vines here.”
Evan knew about the Norton varietal. It made for a decent table red, nothing fancy. He had no experience growing them, however.
“Well, there are a lot of factors that determine quality, not necessarily labor,” Evan said. “For example, the weather during that particular growing period might not have been conducive to yielding good product. Stuff like that people can’t control.”
“True,” Terence conceded. “That’s why I need somebody who can anticipate these problems and help solve them. Will you at least come and see the place? Judi’s already moved, but you’re due for a visit anyway.”
His friend wouldn’t let this alone. “Tell you what. I got a week off owed me in exchange for some above and beyond the call of duty work at my winery. Good any time I want within reasonable warning. How about I fly over and check the place out? No promises, just a nice quiet vacation in Archer Beach.”
In the background he heard Reid shout his approval. He smiled at that, and genuinely did look forward to the time off. Perhaps distancing himself from home might take the edge off the disaster with Nico.
Still, he had to contend with Terence and Reid making goo-goo eyes at each other.
“Right, let’s make it happen,” Terence said, cheered. “E-mail me your flight itinerary when you have it.”
* * * *
&nbs
p; Terence rang off and settled back into his lounge chair with a sigh. From this comfortable perch on his condo balcony, he looked out toward the white-capped waves of the Atlantic. Archer Beach, while not lacking later-than-late night hotspots, exuded a pleasant calm after three AM. He much preferred to this to three o’clock in Manhattan.
He lifted his hi-ball glass, disappointed to see only melting ice and a few drops of watered-down Scotch. He wanted more, but couldn’t muster the energy to rise. The salty tang of sea air acted like a relaxant—he’d fall asleep out here if he thought he wouldn’t pull a muscle in the morning.
As though reading his mind, Reid emerged from the living room toting the half-empty bottle. “Evan bit?” he asked, pouring the refill.
“He’ll e-mail his flight ressies. Didn’t say when exactly he’d come, but I’m sure it will be soon. Evan’s not the kind to say he will visit then lets the matter drop.”
“I’m glad. I really hope this brings you out of your funk.” Terence moved his feet from the wicker ottoman facing him and Reid sat on the cushion. The younger man offered up a sad smile. “Well, did I sound convincing? Like a good life partner?”
Terence knew his ex-lover held no grudges against him. Six months after their romance ended, they remained friends and helped each other with various projects and problems. Aside from buying majority interest in the winery, Terence also invested in Reid’s new business on Sylvester Street called Cool Pops, which sold artisan frozen treats. He wasn’t sure how long Reid would last with such a venture, seeing as how cupcakeries and similar novelty eats spiked and crashed with regularity, but at least Reid set up shop on Sylvester Street. Archer Beach’s gay district enjoyed heavy foot traffic, and with summer approaching people needed to quench their parched throats.
The only thing Terence and Reid hadn’t done together lately, besides that, was publicly announce their break-up. Reid dated here and there now, but Terence kept a low profile when not promoting his show. Therefore, it didn’t surprise him to realize Evan thought he was still off the market.