by B. G. Thomas
Two men, tangled in each other’s arms, the covers of the bed hiding anything that might have made the art vulgar or pornographic. Wade walked over to it in a trance, still holding the mug.
“Nothing like you’d conjured up, is it?” Kent asked.
“No,” he said, voice a whisper. “I wasn’t expecting something so beautiful.” Once more, Wade felt a flush heat his cheeks.
Kent’s usual smile turned into an expression that blazed from his face. “Men making love is beautiful, don’t you think?”
To his surprise, Wade smiled. It felt weird to smile. Like something foreign on his face. When had he smiled last? But then it slipped away. “I always thought so,” he said. “But Gene—”
“Didn’t,” Kent offered.
“He thought….” Wade searched for the words. “He loved sex. He loved having sex. But it wasn’t something we really… talked about. He would have hated this.” He raised his hand. Held it out before the painting but without touching. Certainly not. “He would have called it porn.”
Wade trembled. Looked at the men. The muscles. The way they touched. The folds of the sheets. Their eyes. The colors. Wade stepped closer. Even the brush strokes. “It’s not, though,” he said. Reverently. “It’s… it’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Wade.”
Wade only nodded.
“Sex between men is gorgeous,” Kent said so softly that Wade could barely hear him.
“I’ve always thought so,” Wade whispered back.
“There’s room for all kinds of sex, don’t you think?” Kent asked. He turned to the painting, moved his hands as if he had a brush in them. “Sometimes beautiful and romantic and full of love.” He turned back to Wade with a lecherous look on his face. “And sometimes good old-fashioned pounding fucking.”
Wade’s face grew fever hot. What color must he be? He turned away, trying to hide his blush.
Kent chuckled quietly. “Oh, Wade. Don’t you think it’s beautiful when men fuck? Didn’t you two just fuck sometimes?”
Fuck! That word. Gene had hated that as well.
“Don’t dirty this! It’s not fucking. You fuck a whore.”
“Then what do I call it?” Wade had asked him one of those very first days. “When I want you to be inside me? When I want to be inside you?”
And hadn’t that shocked Wade? He was sure Gene would only want to be the “man.” But oh, what a surprise. That Gene loved it when Wade did it to him was something Wade couldn’t have expected.
“It’s making love,” Gene had corrected.
“Isn’t it all making love?” Wade had asked. “Everything we do?”
“Don’t make this difficult,” Gene had said. “And don’t ever, ever use that word again.”
He hadn’t.
To Wade’s surprise, he felt Kent step closer to him. He was right there at his back. He could feel Kent’s breath on his neck.
Wade jumped away, spun around. “What are you doing, Kent?”
Kent raised his shoulders and then let them fall slightly. “I don’t know, Wade.”
The two men stood looking at each other. Neither moved.
“You do find me attractive, don’t you?” Kent asked.
Wade’s mouth fell open.
“I certainly find you attractive,” Kent continued. “I just thought—”
“But what about Seth?” Wade cried.
Kent reached out slowly, but Wade still flinched. “He’s dead.”
There was pain in Kent’s eyes. Hurt. Loneliness? But wait. Something more? A question? Or… need?
“Gene is dead too, Wade.”
“You don’t think I fucking know that?” he shouted, not knowing where any of the words had come from, and using that ugly one.
Kent fell back, and oh no, the look of hurt on his lovely face.
For a long moment neither of them said a word. But finally Kent broke the silence. “Do you think Seth wants me to be celibate for the rest of my life?”
Then a new look came across his face. Understanding.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry. It hasn’t been that long for you, has it? You lost him recently, didn’t you?”
Wade looked away. “It’s been two years.”
“Two years? That long?”
For some reason Kent’s tone and words pissed Wade off. He whirled back on Kent, feeling a blaze of anger. “Now you’re telling me how long I’m allowed to grieve?”
Kent started to reach out again, then pulled his hand back. Shook his head. Sadness returned to his features.
“I was just trying…. I don’t know. Fuck. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve messed up again.”
Wade shook his head. Yes. Yes, you did. He turned and headed for the door.
“Wade, please! Stop running away.”
He froze.
“Wade, please. Please don’t go. Stay here with me tonight.”
He turned around. Kent was there, mere inches away. So close. He could smell him, the alcohol on his breath, the very musk of him. And those eyes. Those eyes!
“Stay here. Please, Wade.” And then there were tears on Kent’s face. “I am so lonely. I miss him. I am tired of being alone. Please, please stay. We don’t have to do anything. Just be in my bed.”
Wade didn’t move.
Stay? Could he? Could he do it? Could he lie in bed with another man after all these years?
Doling out his love….
The thought made him shake. God. Doling out his love.
And I was happy with that?
Enough is enough!
“All right,” he agreed suddenly, before he could change his mind. And throwing caution to the wind, leaned toward Kent. Asking, but too afraid to ask.
But then, ever so slowly, like something out of a movie, Kent leaned in too, closer and closer until their lips were just lightly touching, only the slightest pressure, then just the barest touch of tongues. They stepped together. Wade felt Kent’s hands at his hips, placed his own on Kent’s.
They opened their mouths to each other.
They kissed.
It made Wade’s heart pound so hard he couldn’t hear the crashing waves outside. His blood seemed to race through his veins. Had kissing Gene been like this? When Kent pulled back, his eyes, those amazing eyes, were wide.
“My God,” Kent said.
Wade nodded. He didn’t dare say anything. He would have only ruined it.
He didn’t resist when Kent took his hand and pulled him gently from the room and down the darkened hall.
WADE’S HEART was beating so hard he could hear it in his ears as they turned and faced each other in the bedroom. Gene’s bedroom. Gene’s bed.
He glanced at it. Looked back into gorgeous eyes. A face smiling at him. At him.
His heart raced even faster.
He was terrified. Excited. Near panic. Exhilarated. Thoughts raced through his mind too fast to truly register. So beautiful. He’s so beautiful. And young. But—inner laugh—not as young as I was when I met Gene. Now I’m the older one. And not as many years older. Sex! Am I about to have sex? With someone besides Gene? I’ve never….
“I’ve never….”
“Never what?” Kent whispered.
“I’ve never….” His face heated up once more. Embarrassment.
Kent simply waited.
Then, whispering, “I’ve never been with anyone except Gene.” He blushed again. Harder.
Kent’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Really?”
Trevor. There was Trevor. “Trevor,” Wade blurted and turned even redder. “My college roommate. Once. One time, that is.”
“Wow,” Kent said. And “Gene wouldn’t let you?”
Wade shook his head.
“Even though you only saw each other two weeks a year?”
Wade nodded.
Kent pursed his lips. “Then, are you sure you want to…?”
“Yes!” And now Wade was burning, he was so embarrassed.
Kent smil
ed. It was so sweet. So tender. So damned sexy. “Wade, I really want to kiss you again. Tell me I can.”
“Oh God,” Wade replied in a long-drawn-out sigh.
“Yes?” Kent asked.
“Yes,” Wade replied.
Kent kissed him. It was so soft. So gentle. Almost chaste. And an electric shock zinged through Wade to his fingertips and his toes, and he felt as if he were floating off the floor. He moaned, and Kent put his arms around him and deepened the kiss. Joy radiated out of him in waves. So long. It had been so long.
So long….
He felt like crying and tried to fight it. But they were tears of joy. Wade trembled and… and then, Kent trembled as well. Wade pulled away ever so slightly, opened his eyes. Kent opened his.
“So long,” Kent whispered.
“You too,” Wade said.
Kent looked down. “There were one or two little… hell… I don’t know. Pickups. Disasters. One I couldn’t even—”
“Then,” Wade said, “are you sure you want to…?”
“Yes!” Kent cried quietly.
What followed then was two men exploring—scared, nervous, excited. They took their time. Slowly undressed each other. Kent “ooohed” over Wade’s chest hair, and Wade almost said that Gene always said that real men had chest hair but then decided that Gene had no place here, not anymore (and maybe he never had?). And Gene wasn’t even right. Oh no! Because when Kent stood there, shirt tossed aside, he revealed a powerfully built chest and torso—an eight-pack—all as smooth as marble. Gene had been a big man—muscular—but Kent was like a Greek statue. Wade was breathless at Kent’s beauty.
So they touched and kissed, ran their fingertips and hands over skin, shivered in delight, turned exploration into making love.
Pants fell, followed by underwear, baring straining erections. Wade tried not to compare Kent to Gene, but with only the two men he’d been with, he couldn’t help it. Gene’s had been thick and hooded with a fleshy foreskin. Kent’s was longer, not as thick, and had a circumcision scar so narrow and totally perfect that, at first, Wade wasn’t even sure Kent was cut. That perhaps his foreskin was just folded behind the head of his cock. But no. Touching, pulling carefully, showed Wade that Kent was circumcised like he was. His balls were heavy, drawing tight with his excitement, nearly smooth, while Wade’s were as hairy as the rest of him. Wade paid quite excited compliments to Kent and was thrilled when Kent returned them.
They crawled into the bed—Wade’s bed, it always had been—and furthered their lovemaking. Kissing. Touching. Shifting around so they were head to toe. When Wade took Kent’s beautiful cock into his mouth, he grew faint. Perfect. It was perfect! Alive. Warm. Velvet over stone. The taste sweet and slightly salty.
Gene’s had always been bitter. His fluid had been. Kent’s made Wade hungry.
They noted each other’s smooth asses. Kent teased that it was the only part of Wade that was smooth below his neck.
Kent’s ass was sublime. Wade touched it and kissed it, urged Kent onto his belly and ran his fingers deep into the valley between Kent’s buttocks, was grateful for what Gene had taught him, because Kent cried out and begged for more. Then begged Wade to fuck him.
Wade didn’t have a condom, but he knew he was negative, and he believed Kent when he said the same. When Kent told him that he desperately wanted there to be nothing between them, not even a thin layer of latex.
By then Wade was leaking so profusely that, along with how wet he’d made Kent with his mouth, his entry was startlingly easy, Kent making only one small hiss—
“Do you want me to stop…?”
“No! Please don’t!”
—and then he was fucking him, and Kent soon rose onto his hands and knees and pushed back, and they were rocking, faster, harder, desperately, fucking, crying, shouting, and….
Oh!
Kent shouted, “God! Oh! I’m….”
And his body gripped Wade viselike, and he joined Kent and went into the sweet oblivion of orgasm.
They fell back together on the bed, and when Wade tried to pull out, Kent near begged him not to. So they rolled to their sides, and after that Wade knew no more. He fell deeply into sleep, and his dreams were lovely and filled with hope.
SUNLIGHT WAS peeking through the window when Wade woke. It took him only an instant to remember where he was, and when he did, he smiled.
He smiled.
He turned his head to see Kent asleep next to him. Only the second man he’d ever slept with, the second he’d awoken to.
But this time it was different.
Wade didn’t know how he knew, but he did. His heart felt lighter. Like it was being touched by the sunlight making its way more and more into the room.
He had no idea what had happened. But something let loose when Kent made love to him, when he made love to Kent.
And they had made love.
Kent sighed in his sleep and shifted, bringing a hand to his face to block the sun. And was that a smile?
Wade slipped naked from the bed. His bladder was full and in need of relief.
That’s when he saw the bottle of pills. They were lying on the floor. Somehow they must have slipped from his pocket. He reached down and picked it up, hefted it in his hand, listened to the pills rattle within.
Then he took them to the bathroom, opened the bottle, and spilled them into the toilet. Peed for good measure. Flushed. And returned to the bedroom.
Kent shifted again and then opened those brilliant eyes. This time it was definitely a smile.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” Wade replied and smiled back.
He had no idea where this was going. Whether he would ever see this man again.
But he had two weeks. That’s how long the lease lasted.
One thing he did know.
He wasn’t Kent’s dirty little secret.
Gene was dead.
But Kent was not.
Neither was he.
And what they had done last night was beautiful.
There was a lot to sort out. But somehow he knew for at least the next two weeks Kent would be there to help him.
After that?
Why, life was waiting for him.
Who knew what might happen?
A Note from the Author
THIS STORY is one of the very first I ever sold—and I am darn proud of it as well. It was bought by Anne Regan for the Dreamspinner Press anthology Two Tickets to Paradise. I didn’t find out about the call for submissions until nearly the last minute, and I knew I had no time to write a story and submit it. But someone put in a good word for me—Julianne Bentley—and Anne was kind enough to let me have another week. “New Lease” was what I handed in. It all happened because of a photograph. A handsome middle-aged man sitting alone on a beach. He looked so lonely. The photograph was gray—but not black-and-white. A story was born.
I was so pleased when she then decided she wanted it—she even told me it made her cry. What could be better than that?
When the folks at Dreamspinner Press decided it was time for Two Tickets to Paradise to go out of print (which makes me sad; it was a terrific anthology—simply first-rate), they very kindly said they would be happy to recontract “New Lease” and make it a stand-alone story. I was surprised at the feeling I got. Relief. This story is a part of my “Universe.” In fact, Wade and Kent show up in my very first novel, All Alone in a Sea of Romance. I bet they show up again. So it was important to me that this story be available to my readers, or at least those who wanted to have a complete collection of all my tales.
It also gave me the opportunity to clean it up a bit (I’m a better writer than I was six years ago) and add three thousand words or so, which I feel really improved the story.
I hope you agree and that you enjoy this revised and expanded “director’s cut” of “New Lease.” I certainly enjoyed bringing it to you!
Namasté,
B.G.
Mor
e from B.G. Thomas
The path to happiness starts with acceptance, and sometimes the chance for a bright, loving future means letting go of the past.
All his life, Neil Baxter has buried a large part of himself—the part that’s attracted to other men. He married a woman and denied that side of him existed. And he plans to keep right on pretending to be straight after his beloved wife has passed away.
To help him deal with his grief, Neil’s sister-in-law convinces him to vacation at a dude ranch. There, Neil meets Cole Thompson, a young, gorgeous, unabashedly gay wrangler—who is unabashedly attracted to Neil. And try as he might, Neil cannot deny he feels the same way. But desire soon becomes something more profound as the two men get to know each other. Cole is much more than a sexy cowboy: he’s kind, spiritual, and intelligent. In fact, he’s perfect for Neil… except he’s a man, and Neil isn’t ready to let go of a lifetime of denial. If he cannot find the courage to be true to himself, he might let something wonderful slip through his fingers.
Being rich has its advantages, but it is also rife with suffocating pressures and family telling Chandler Buckingham how to live his life. When his assistant offers to help him escape the mounting obligations of the holiday season by running away to Hawaii, Chandler jumps at the chance. Only to find nothing is quite as he’d expected.
Micah Keolu has lived in Hawaii all his life. He has to work two jobs and has little time for a social life, but his loving family and the island beauty around him have given him a heart as big as the ocean. And then one day he rescues a man trapped in an elevator in the building where Micah lives and works maintenance.
The unexpected happens as they find themselves drawn together, only to learn there is more to each other than meets the eye. Can two men from very different worlds find a way to enrich each other’s lives? Maybe the magic of the holidays just might bring them lasting joy!
A story from the Dreamspinner Press 2016 Advent Calendar “Bah Humbug.”
Bryan Mills has fantasized about cowboys all his life. Real cowboys, that is. He even dresses in what his roommate calls “cowboy drag” when he visits his favorite bar, in the hope of attracting the attentions of a genuine cowboy. But all he usually finds are posers and guys his own age.
