Alluring Passion: A MM Contemporary Bundle

by Peter Styles

  It wasn’t long until Lincoln was closing and locking the door. Wyatt glanced over to see Lincoln leaning his head against it. “Alone at last,” Wyatt cooed over to him with a smile on his face, hoping that, if he acted like nothing was wrong, then so would Lincoln.

  Lincoln stayed still, his head still against the door as he took a few deep breaths. “We were alone, but then you had to open the door,” Lincoln snapped, slowly turning to Wyatt.

  Tension rose in the air, the anger and frustration radiating off of him. Wyatt contorted his brow, “You’re not seriously going to try and blame me for this, are you?”

  “I tried to get you not to answer it. We are meant to be private about our arrangement, remember?” Lincoln glared.

  “You’re going to blame me for your wack-job fan showing up? At my apartment? It isn’t like I put out flyers, advertising where I live and that you would be here today, Linc. You’re the reason she was here,” Wyatt defended.

  “I’m trying to say it shouldn’t matter who it was on the other side of that door. You should have considered me,” Lincoln barked at him.

  “You don’t get to tell me whether or not I answer my goddamn door. You don’t get to be mad, either! If anyone has the right to be pissed off, it is me. That random chick knows where I live and knows you’ve been here. But am I being a prick about it? No, because I know you couldn’t have known that was going to happen. Why can’t you just drop it?” Wyatt jabbed right back, standing from the couch.

  “Oh, yeah, you seemed so torn up about her finding your apartment,” Lincoln scoffed. “You were glowing you were so happy she wanted you in the pictures.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Wyatt spat. He was in disbelief that Lincoln was acting like that. “First off, I tried to say no. What was I supposed to do, sit there and argue with her about it? It’s just a few pictures. I don’t see your point.”

  “Yeah, a few pictures with a skinny, shirtless guy with bleached hair that my following has never seen. You know that girl is going to give a detailed story, and people are going to know I came over here.”

  “So?” Wyatt snapped. What in the hell was he getting at? Was he trying to offend Wyatt?

  “I’ve worked hard to keep Jack Brannon scandal free. I’ve portrayed him as an asexual, metrosexual model. A living mannequin. So, with that girl’s story, people are going to speculate. Rumors are going to spread. Other folks may try to come by and question you about it,” Lincoln ranted, his nostrils flaring and a hand clutching at the roots of his curls. After a few moments of trying to compose himself, Lincoln spoke again, “This is exactly the thing I didn’t want to happen when getting involved with someone. I didn’t want my partner's life under a microscope like mine. I slip up one time and act on a stupid, horny whim, and this is what happens.”

  Wyatt’s anger deflated a bit, realizing that Lincoln wasn’t actually blaming him, but was rather deflecting. “Linc, babe… You’re overanalyzing this,” Wyatt sighed, stepping toward him, but Lincoln backed away. “It’s just one fan. You really think she’s going to make that much of an impact? Besides, it isn’t like she opened the door and took a picture of us getting ready to fuck. What if you went to go see a friend that happened to be shirtless? It really isn’t that horrible.”

  “That’s not the point either,” Lincoln groaned. “It’s the fact that it could have been worse. She could have been a more invasive fan. My life and Jack’s life aren’t supposed to intertwine on a personal level. It makes things messy and overly complicated. And those are two things I don’t want my life to be.” He stood there, the anger seeming to be sucked out of his body. His entire demeanor changed. Then Lincoln shook his head, keeping his eyes averted from Wyatt, “It was a mistake coming here. I gotta go.” Pacing quickly across the living room, he snatched up his suit bag.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Wyatt called after him, grabbing hold of Lincoln’s hand. Lincoln quickly snatched it back. “It wasn’t a mistake coming here. It was fucking rude and creepy of that girl to follow you. This isn't my fault; it isn’t yours. What happened, happened. We can’t change it, so let’s just try and move past it, okay? Please.”

  Lincoln’s eyes finally returned to Wyatt, his stunning green eyes scanning over every detail of his face. With a sigh and great hesitance, Lincoln shook his head, “Bye, Wyatt.”

  “What do you mean bye? As in for the night, or…?”

  “I don’t know,” Lincoln muttered, honestly. “I’ll contact you if I find my answer.”

  Wyatt watched with glossy eyes as Lincoln moved to the door. It truly felt like Lincoln was saying goodbye for good. “Lincoln…” Wyatt breathed.

  “Bye, Wyatt,” Lincoln called back, without looking. Then, he disappeared through the front door. Wyatt stood there, frozen and doe-eyed. Had all of that really just unfolded? It had passed by in a hazy disconcerting blur. Just a while ago, they were moments away from having sex, and now Lincoln was a fading memory never to return. Wyatt’s chest felt hollow, his throat choked with emotion.

  I’m not going to cry over some fuckboy, Wyatt told himself mentally, gritting his teeth. Quickly making his way over to his desk, he plopped down in the chair and began to roll a blunt. His heart was pounding in his ears as his fingers fumbled with the paper, his nerves sending tremors throughout his bones. He lifted it to his lips and lit it. Taking a deep inhale, he leaned his head back against the head cushion.

  Wyatt felt incomprehensibly defeated. He was an idiot.

  Chapter 7: Getting a Grip

  The next couple of days of Wyatt’s life went by at a snail’s pace. He sat about his apartment, doing much of nothing but work from time to time. Wyatt had never been one of those people that couldn’t be without their phone, but he found himself chained to it. He couldn’t be arm’s reach away from it without worrying he had missed a call from Lincoln. The conversation that led Lincoln to leave that day played in Wyatt’s head on a loop, causing him to try and figure out if he could have done anything to keep it from happening. For a while, Wyatt convinced himself that Lincoln was right about it being Wyatt’s fault. He shouldn’t have answered the door; he knew how Lincoln felt about anyone seeing them together. However, Wyatt knew it wasn’t a fair conclusion. It would have been impossible for him to know that the person at his door had been a rather invasive fan of Lincoln’s.

  When Wyatt found himself sitting alone in silence, just watching his cell phone, he knew he needed to get a grip. The last few weeks with Lincoln had been amazing, sexy, and more fun than he had ever had. He wasn’t just some loner prick in the presence of Lincoln, he was a witty, interesting equal. Wyatt loved the way he felt around Lincoln, the way Lincoln made him feel, and the time they spent together. If it wasn’t for the hang up of Lincoln’s work, Wyatt was confident that they could have had a very happy, carefree relationship. They got along perfectly, clicking on a subconscious level. All of the friction came from how they individually interpreted external factors. It was ridiculous, no matter the situation, for something like that to keep a couple from being together in harmony.

  Wyatt knew he couldn’t change Lincoln, and he needed to accept that. His entire life couldn’t revolve around a man that was so easily scared away from his own emotions, and would rather further his career than his love life. Clearly, Wyatt had to work on himself as well since he had let Lincoln invade his life so intimately and quickly. All the while knowing Lincoln wasn’t ready for commitment, no matter the reasoning behind it. Perhaps Wyatt was damned to always want unavailable men.

  He tried to give himself to his work, putting his soul into every commission—but he found himself uninspired and totally drained. His work wasn’t something he could force when he was running on empty physically, emotionally and mentally. Therefore, he put out a memo to let his clients know he was going on hiatus for a few days; that way he wouldn’t have work emails hanging over him. Wyatt wanted a total separation from his life, to just walk away for a while and find himself. He felt aimless
though. He wasn’t wealthy, but he had the money to spend a night or two away from the city. Even with the capability, he had no idea where to go.

  After an entire day of laying around, festering and pondering on what to do, Wyatt did reach one conclusion. He needed to get out of his apartment and be around people; submerge himself in a crowd of people. Staying at home feeling lonely and sorry for himself wasn’t going to get him anywhere, aside from the inside of a bottle of rum. Forcing himself to get up from his couch, Wyatt dragged his limbs to the bathroom and ran a hot shower.

  Emerging from the shower sometime later, Wyatt dried himself off and dressed in skinny jeans, a v-neck shirt and his beloved leather jacket. Putting on a snapback, he then grabbed his keys, phone and cigarettes before heading out. It was a Saturday night, could there be a better time to cleanse your mind of a lover? Wyatt tried to control his thoughts, focusing only on the evening ahead of him. He thought over the details of where to go, what he would do when he got there and how he would get home after. Anything to keep Lincoln from invading his thoughts.

  As soon as his shoes greeted the pavement outside his building, Wyatt lit a cigarette. He made his way down the block, knowing of a few gay bars and clubs in the area. Wyatt knew he didn’t want to go to a rave, but he did desperately want to dance. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he knew it could be a liberating distraction after a number of drinks. So, Wyatt had his mind set on a low-key club, knowing it wouldn’t be slam-packed, but wouldn’t be barren either considering it was Saturday night. He found himself enjoying the walk over, cold air filling his lungs and the sounds of the city surrounding his senses. Already, it was getting easier for him to keep his thoughts off of Lincoln. Wyatt was realizing more and more that he shouldn’t have let himself wallow, even before Lincoln left. He had let himself stay secluded in the wonderland that had been his and Lincoln’s arrangement. Being with Lincoln was exactly what Wyatt wanted but not what he needed.

  Approaching the club, Wyatt stood in the short line and waited to pay his cover charge and get his hand stamp. As soon as the door opened, the music resonating intensely from within engulfed him. It was like stepping inside of a speaker, the walls throbbing from the bass of the music. So much for low-key, Wyatt grumbled. He couldn’t be too upset though, he had been off the scene for about a month. And the nightlife in that city was always changing. Stepping into the main room of the club, his eyes scanned around. It was rather dim inside, the only lights to be found were at the bar, the tables and the variants of strobes and colorful lights surrounding the DJ. It was rather crowded on the dance floor, men sandwiched between one another as they ground and swung to the electrifying music.

  He wasn’t quite ready for that. Wyatt moved over to the bar, leaning against the counter and ordering himself a couple shots of tequila and a tequila spritzer to wash it down. It was his poison of choice when he needed to just let go of all of his inhibitions. Maybe he’d even end up in someone else’s bed by the end of the night. The thought soured him, but thankfully the bartender came through and presented him his drinks. Taking a deep breath, Wyatt threw back his head as he took each shot. The alcohol burned the entire way down, nearly choking Wyatt as he managed to force them both. His hand quickly grasped his spritzer and took a few large sips to wash it down. Even though the cocktail was bitter, it was preferable over the burning of those shots. He let out a heavy breath and casually sipped at his drink as he looked around the bustling club.

  A light smile came to his face as he witnessed everyone having a good time. Everyone there seemed to be escaping from their everyday lives. What other purpose did a club have? It reminded him of his life before meeting Lincoln. Every Friday and Saturday night he would go to clubs like that one, drink and try and pick up guys. Sometimes Wyatt got mad at himself, feeling like he should have never allowed a man to pull him out of his routine, or get so hung up on a guy that his entire lie became just waiting around to see him the next time. However, what was the point of going out to clubs or dating at all if it wasn’t in pursuit of someone to have a relationship with? Wyatt had just been naïve and stupid to try to have that with someone who was adamantly unavailable.

  His mind was running in circles, and his thoughts were focused on Lincoln. Wyatt was there to escape those thoughts. Waving at the bartender to come over, Wyatt quickly knocked back his spritzer and ordered another. He put his forehead in his hand, taking in a deep breath to try and pull himself together. He needed to get out of this chasm he had forced himself into. When the bartender slid Wyatt his drink, Wyatt happily took a gulp of it before turning his eyes back to the dance floor.

  Nursing his drink, Wyatt started to feel the alcohol catching up to him. Already, his body was growing warm from the liquor. With his drink in hand, Wyatt walked back toward the door and turned his jacket into the coat check. By the time he made his way back over to the bar, his glass was empty and his head started to get a little swimmy. Now was as good of a time as any to go to the dance floor. If he didn’t, he would just stay at the bar and get drunk by himself—and he could do that at home. Putting his glass down, Wyatt made his way over to the mass of people crowding around the DJ in one massive blob. Electronic dance music filled the club, the crowd moving to the beat of the song. He slipped through the spaces between people, trying to find enough space for him to stand in.

  Before he could though, a hand formed around his wrist. His heart fluttered, for a split second his drunken mind telling him that it was Lincoln. When he turned to look, however, Wyatt found a tall, athletic blonde with a smile on his face. It shouldn’t have disappointed Wyatt, the blonde was good-looking. But it did. Still, he forced a sly smile onto his lips as the blonde pulled Wyatt into him. He held Wyatt’s slender frame against his as he began to grind on Wyatt from behind. Wyatt made himself relax into the man’s chest. The blonde held to Wyatt’s hips as he swiveled his own in a circular motion, and Wyatt matched his movements with his own hips. The blonde then moved to Wyatt’s side, letting his groin press against Wyatt’s hip as he began to grind him. Then, he began to show off a bit, doing full body rolls from his chest, down into his pelvis. He really put Wyatt’s dancing to shame. He started to lift his shirt with each roll, showing off his rippling abs and deep v-shaped hip muscles. Damn. He might just be exactly what Wyatt needed.

  They danced together song after song, taking jello shots as the night progressed. It didn’t take long for Wyatt to remove his shell. His self-consciousness and self-doubt deadened, for the time being, letting himself dance and drink as much as he pleased. The blonde, who he thought was named Adam, was along for the entire thing. They didn’t talk much at all, but danced and laughed together. Pretty soon, Wyatt was wasted to the point where he had trouble standing straight, having to lean into Adam for support. Adam didn’t seem to mind at all, holding Wyatt level as they danced. Then, Wyatt felt wet, sticky kisses along his neck and shoulder.

  Wyatt embraced the kisses. He closed his eyes as the Adonis drunkenly kissed and licked at Wyatt’s skin. Well, Wyatt tried to embrace it. Even in his stupor, he was very aware of how sloppy Adam’s kisses were. Not the hot, passionate kind of careless kissing, but the downright obnoxious type. It didn’t feel right at all. While Adam might have known his way around a dance floor, he certainly had no rhythm when it came to his lips and tongue. “Excuse me,” Wyatt called over the music, as he pulled away from Adam.

  “I didn’t do something wrong, did I?” he immediately asked, his blonde brow crunching with concern.

  “No, I’m just going to step out for a smoke,” Wyatt explained, but didn’t wait for further comment before turning on his heel and quickly walking away from him. It was kind of hard to navigate through the crowd with being so intoxicated, but he tried his damnedest to do it on his own. Stumbling his way to the door, he handed the doorman his ticket for his jacket. Once the doorman got Wyatt’s coat, Wyatt hugged it to himself and walked outside. He fumbled along the sidewalk as he managed to pull it on. Sitting against
the building, Wyatt dug his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put one between his lips. His head bobbed as he tried to light it, making it that much more tasking.

  Eventually, he got it. His lungs filled with the soothing menthol smoke, Wyatt slowly breathing it out into the chilly night air. Leaning his head back against the wall, he fished his phone from his jacket pocket to check the time. When he turned the screen on, the first thing he noticed was the notification that he had two missed calls from Lincoln. His breath caught in his throat. Of course, once Wyatt swears to himself to get Lincoln off his mind, Lincoln tries to reach out to him. What could he have wanted to say? Should it matter to Wyatt? Then, his phone began vibrating.

  Incoming Call: Lincoln Prescott

  Oh God. Wyatt stared at his phone blankly, not sure what to do. Would it be best to ignore it; give him a taste of his own medicine? It sounded like an attractive thought, but Wyatt knew it would just drive him crazy, not knowing what he was calling about. You’re not going to just crawl right back to him, Wyatt. You need to stay focused, even though you’re drunk and it seems really impossible, he tried to coach himself. Taking a deep breath, he answered it and pressed the phone to his ear. “What?” he answered the phone.

  “I’ve been trying to call… Everything alright?” Lincoln asked, concern hinting in his tone.

  “I’m perfectly alright. I’m out having a blast,” Wyatt tried to rub it in, though he knew it came off sounding childish.

  “Is that so?” Lincoln questioned. “Have you been drinking?”

  Wyatt was quick to snap back, “What does it matter to you?”