by Rick R. Reed
“Not at all. I’m sure it’s good for business.”
“We’ll see.” Sam pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, stretched out, and rested one of his legs on top of Thad’s. He leaned close. “I’m not really thinking about business anymore.” The intensity of Sam’s gaze was a magnet, pulling Thad toward him almost irresistibly. “You know?”
“I know,” Thad breathed. Blood had been rushing steadily to his face and lower, and if much more of the stuff made its way north or south, he feared he might explode. Thad knew he was faced with two options: one—do the socially correct thing and sit there, sipping drinks and making polite chitchat for about a half hour, artfully working his way up to an invitation to a stroll around the lake, which then might morph into stopping by his place for a drink, or two—simply lay his cards on the table and hope for the best.
Because patience had never been one of his virtues, the latter option won out. He looked around the room and discovered, to his surprise, that it was completely empty, stood a little, leaned over the table, and kissed Sam. What surprised him was how hungrily Sam accepted the kiss, grabbing the back of Thad’s neck roughly to pull him closer. His beard scratched against Thad’s skin, the sensation strangely irritating and hot, all at once. Sam’s tongue forced Thad’s lips apart and dove inside, exploring, making Thad dizzy and giving him a taste of red wine and echoes of garlic and tomatoes. Sam pulled him closer, so that Thad’s upper body lay sprawled across the tabletop. The Chianti bottle candleholder toppled over and crashed to the floor. Neither paid it any mind. The hungry kiss was the culmination of an entire evening of longing glances, double entendres, and fleeting touches, all of them combining to stoke a fire neither knew was being kindled until their lips met and it burst into flame.
Finally Thad pulled himself away, shuddering with the delicious sensations coursing through him. Breathless, he thought if the kiss had gone on just a little longer and with just a bit more ferocity, he would have had a mess in his briefs to clean up. And he wanted to save every drop of that “mess” for Sam.
In the end there were no clever seductive phrases available for Thad to employ. He simply looked at Sam, who was as breathless as he, and said, “Wanna come home with me?”
“Let’s go.” Sam pulled Thad up roughly by his arm. Thad didn’t mind a bit. Sam bit his neck, licked his ear, and whispered, “I’m an animal in bed. Are you sure?”
Dumbly, Thad could only nod and hope his knees would hold out for the short walk to his apartment. His heart thudded in his chest.
Outside, the cold night air was a shock to Thad’s lust-tempered skin. He wanted to hurry and pulled Sam along by his hand. Their first time, he had a feeling, would be savage and over quickly, but they had all night, right?
As they headed to his apartment, Thad’s anticipation was withered just a fraction by an odd sensation. Even though the streets of the Green Lake neighborhood were still at this late night hour, and even though the wind rustled the leaves on the trees, Thad had that prickly sensation that someone was watching.
He glanced all around him and saw nothing.
Thad shrugged and pulled Sam in for another kiss. “It’ll only take about five minutes to get home.”
Sam growled, “Five minutes too long. Let’s hurry.”
Chapter 3
IN HIS imagination, Thad pictured the two of them coming in his front door and Sam throwing him roughly up against the door, covering his face and neck with kisses while his hands roamed, tweaking a nipple there, fondling his balls here. In the pregnant darkness, the man would work Thad into a frenzy of carnal desire so great he didn’t know if they would make it to the bedroom or if they would consummate their passion right on the living room floor. He saw their muscles, slicked with sweat, working in unison like a machine to bring each other to dizzying heights of pleasure.
He hadn’t pictured Edith greeting them at the door and the poor Chihuahua manically jumping on him, whining to be taken outside—immediately. So, with reluctance, Thad flipped on the overhead light so he could find her leash. He looked back at Sam, who waited outside in the shadows. “You can just go on in and have a seat on the couch. She won’t take more than a minute.”
“It’s okay. I can wait out here.” Sam groped in his pocket and brought out a pack of Marlboro Reds. He extracted one, lit it, and exhaled a plume of blue-gray smoke into the night air. Thad was both repelled and aroused by the site of Sam lighting up.
Ugh. A smoker. Something I’ll have to work on changing. He then couldn’t deny the “bad boy” thrill the sight of Sam smoking gave him. Or maybe not.
Thad ducked back in and stooped to affix harness and leash to Edith, who was all but hopping up and down with impatience. She whimpered and stared desperately up at him.
“I know, I know,” Thad soothed. “Small bladder.”
The two stepped outside, and Edith froze when she saw Sam. Her eyes widened, and the hackles along her neck and back went up. She immediately began a furious yapping, baring her teeth and lunging toward Sam, her tiny frame testing the endurance of the leather leash. Thad was surprised the old girl had so much fury and strength within her seven-pound frame. He sent a weak smile Sam’s way to apologize for her behavior. “I don’t know what’s up with her. She’s usually not like this.”
“Maybe it’s the dark. I’ll move over here.” Sam hurried back down the walkway until he stood near the street, the orange tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark.
Thad squatted down to comfort the little dog shaking with fury and what seemed like terror. He had acquired Edith as a puppy and had made sure she was well socialized from about eight weeks old, taking her everywhere with him and exposing her, over the years, to all sorts of people, other dogs, and even cats. He had never seen her behave like this. Great! I finally find a man I think I could be nuts about and my dog doesn’t like him. Something else I’ll have to work on. Thad walked Edith in the opposite direction from Sam, and she calmed down enough to reestablish her original goal and take care of it.
“I’ll put her in the bathroom,” Thad called to Sam as he headed back to the apartment. “Give me just a sec. I’ll leave the door open and then you can come in.”
Thad grabbed her little shearling bed and put it in the corner of the bathroom. He then rushed into the kitchen to put some peanut butter in her Kong toy. He presented it to her. “Here, I’ve been nice to you. Now you be nice to me. No more trouble from you.” He took one last glance back at the dog, busy with getting peanut butter out of her toy, before closing the bathroom door.
Sam leaned against his front door, smiling. He didn’t look tired in the least, even though it was near two in the morning and he had worked all evening. The color in his cheeks was high, his lips full and slightly parted, and the way he stared at Thad was all invitation. Thad simply wanted to get lost in that big, furry body.
But he was still a little flustered. “Sorry about that. She isn’t usually so unfriendly. I don’t know what got into her.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not much of a dog person—maybe she knew that. And maybe you don’t know what’s gotten into her, but I have an inkling you have a very good idea what’s going to be getting into you.” Sam winked and then laughed.
“You dog!” Thad crossed the room, flicked off the lights, and pressed his body against Sam. The kisses commenced, against the door, just as he had imagined. Thad was, for once, grateful he didn’t have a job to go to come Monday morning, because he knew his face would be red and chafed from the pressure of Sam’s beard. This way, he imagined he would smile with fond memories every time he looked in a mirror.
They kissed for what seemed like the next hour, until both of them panted and half their faces were damp with each other’s saliva. Without their ever leaving the front door, shirts had been undone and pulled apart, flies opened, and shoes kicked into corners.
Breathlessly, Thad forced himself away from Sam and said the three little words every man longs to he
ar: “To the bed.” He grabbed Sam and tugged him toward the bed that occupied one corner of his studio. They fell upon it, laughing and continuing to tear at each other’s clothes.
Sam pinned Thad’s arms to the sheets and above Thad’s head as he bent to cover his upper torso with kisses, tongue laps, and bites that toed the line between pleasure and pain. But Thad, while he might have sighed and even cried out, never complained. He liked his nipples chewed on, and one had to go pretty far to make it too rough. There seemed to be an electric wire inside him, connecting his nipples to his genitals. He squirmed beneath Sam, coherent enough to wonder how this man, whom he had known for only a few hours, seemed to be an expert at what pleased him and the topography of Thad’s body.
Sam’s head dipped lower, then lower, until he was at Thad’s feet. Thad closed his eyes and kept his arms above his head, grabbing onto the posts in the headboard for support. “Oh yeah,” he whimpered as Sam took his toes in his mouth, sucking hard. Slowly Sam made his way along his runner-muscled legs, nipping and kissing his way up. When he took Thad completely inside his mouth, the heat and wet just about made Thad come, but he held on, thinking of Edith’s sweet face to keep himself from hurtling over that edge.
Just as he thought he would be unable to hang on any longer and would explode in Sam’s mouth, the man stopped and moved up, covering Thad’s lean, muscled body with his own like a big, furry blanket.
Muffled, from beneath him, Thad whispered happily, “I could stay like this forever.”
“Not quite like this,” Sam said, moving back to grab Thad’s ankles and push them up on his shoulders. “Like this.” Sam positioned himself right at the crack of Thad’s ass and smiled down at him.
The heavy beard, the penetrating dark eyes, and the lips parted with lust all combined to make Thad want to cry out “I love you!” but he had the good sense to know it was too soon to make such utterances. Instead, he panted, “There are rubbers and lube in the nightstand drawer.”
As Sam moved so he could lean over and open the drawer, Thad glanced down and saw what he would soon be getting. He sucked in his breath and bit his lip, a flurry of quivering desire and, yes, fear coursing through him. Nestled amid a thick mound of black pubic hair rose one of the largest cocks he had ever seen. It must have been eight or nine inches long and only a little less than that dimension in circumference, topped with a huge purple head that made Thad think of plums. The head leaked precum, and Thad had to close his eyes and force himself to breathe more slowly. “Go slow, okay?” he whispered.
And Sam did. He inched himself in a fraction at a time, all the while leaning forward to kiss Thad deeply on the mouth and to tongue and bite his nipples. By the time he was all the way inside, Thad was relaxed and ready. He wiggled down on Sam’s cock to get him as far as possible inside him. He pushed at his ass with his legs, throwing caution to the wind, and told him, “You don’t have to go slow anymore.”
Sam grinned. He didn’t go slowly. By the time they finished, the sheets were in a bunch on the floor and both of their bodies glistened with sweat. Even the mattress was wet.
Sam and Thad lay on their backs, breathless. Thad spoke first, but only after several minutes had passed, long enough for him to process what had just happened and to allow his respiration to return to a somewhat normal pace. “That was amazing. I’m no Mary Poppins, but I can honestly say I don’t know when it’s been that good for me.” Thad let out a long, quivering breath. “You’re right. You are an animal.”
Sam laughed, and the sound was comforting, there in the pale, silvery light from a waning moon outside. Thad snuggled into the crook between Sam’s chest and arm, resting his head on the fur that blanketed Sam’s chest. This, he thought, surprising himself, is just about as good as the sex.
“I just go with my instincts.” Sam stroked Thad’s hair gently. “If that makes me an animal, then I’m guilty as charged.” He moved slightly away from Thad. “Don’t kill me, but do you mind if I have a cigarette? I can go outside if you want.”
Thad shook his head, grinning. “A smoke after sex. That’s so cliché. But go ahead. Normally I wouldn’t allow it, but I’ll make an exception for you… Sam.” Thad liked how the name felt on his tongue. He leaned over Sam to pull a little tray he had on the nightstand he used for change closer. Sam could use it as an ashtray.
“Grazie.” Sam turned to sit up and grope in his pants pocket, bringing out his pack and a lighter. He leaned against the headboard and lit up. The room filled with the acrid stench of burning tobacco and paper, and instead of being repelled as he normally would, Thad moved close to Sam again, taking up his newly claimed spot on the man’s chest. He stared up at him, watching him smoke. Lazily he traced circles in the hairy mat covering Sam’s chest. His fingers stopped when he caught sight of a design on Sam’s left pectoral, something he hadn’t noticed in the dim light, or perhaps because it was all but hidden by the forest of hair. Thad got up on one elbow.
“You have a tattoo?”
In the dark, Sam nodded. “I’ve had it for years, way before tattoos were all the rage like they are these days.”
“Especially here in Seattle.” Thad often wondered if there was some requirement that all citizens of Seattle must have at least one tattoo. “What’s it of?” Thad strained to make out the design’s contours in the dim light and couldn’t.
Sam leaned forward to switch on the bedside lamp. Thad squinted at the sudden light source, then directed his gaze down at the muscled chest before him. “What is it?” Thad traced the design with his fingers, lowering his head to peer more closely at it. He nipped at Sam’s nipple and Sam laughed.
“It’s Lupa, the she-wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus, the twins who founded Rome in mythology. Cool, no?” Sam flexed his chest so the wolf seemed to move. Two cherubic twin boys below the figure suckled at her teats.
“It’s kind of weird. But it suits you.” Thad reached over Sam to turn off the light again. “What brought you to America?”
Did Thad detect a slight stiffening when he asked the question? He had only meant to further their little postcoital conversation. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” he hurried to say, wondering if he had imagined the slight body language. “If it’s none of my business, just say so.”
Sam relaxed against the bunched-up—and damp—pillows. “No. It’s okay. We came from a small village in Sicily. Lots of mountains, rocks, olive trees… not much else. You would probably think it’s pretty, but me, I was bored. We just decided one day to go, to come to America, to see if we could make a go of it here. We tried New York City first, but it was too crazy there. Too many people, too expensive. We wanted someplace where everything was not concrete, where there was some nature. Seattle was, how would you say? A natural choice.”
Now it was Thad’s turn to stiffen just a bit. What was with all the “we” this and “we” that? His feelings, briefly at an all-time high, sunk. Was Sam married? Did he have a lover? Was Thad just that night’s side dish? Sam’s olive cake with marionberries? Would Sam soon be getting up to hurry home to someone who was sleeping with one eye open, waiting for the sound of his key in the door? Thad didn’t want to come off as suspicious, but he couldn’t resist his next question and thought he might as well get everything out in the open right from the start.
“You said ‘we.’ Who’s ‘we’?” Thad tried to bite his lip to keep himself from saying more, but he couldn’t resist the impulse. “Wait. Don’t tell me. There’s a boyfriend—or a wife—right?” He held his breath, waiting for the bad news to be delivered. It wouldn’t surprise him, but it would certainly deflate him. And it would be just about right for how his life had been going lately.
Sam chuckled and took a last drag off his cigarette. He got up and went to the window to flick it outside. His ass, high and firm, glowed in the moonlight, and Thad wondered if he would have to rethink his policy of not dating committed men. Hell, with that ass, I may have to rethink my policy of being a total bo
ttom.
He’s not talking because he’s trying to think of the right way to tell me. Thad clutched a pillow to his chest, almost as if he were bracing himself for a blow, which he was.
Sam weighed down the bed as he slid back in beside him. “You silly boy. There’s no one else. I said ‘we’ because I have a son. He came with me.” Sam took Thad’s face in his hands and snatched him up in his dark-eyed gaze. “There’s no one else.” He let go and Thad immediately missed the contact. “I travel light. I usually like, um, no complications? But when I saw you, I couldn’t resist.”
Before Thad could respond, Sam was on him again, kissing, tonguing, and finally pulling him onto his knees and mounting him from behind. Sam was no less tender and this time held out even longer before they both exploded, making enough noise that Thad worried about waking the neighbors.
It wasn’t until they were falling asleep that the paranoid side of Thad caught up with him again, causing him to wonder if the fucking was a way to stave off further conversation. Who is this son? Did Sam really just come to America for a change? How many people actually do that… or can even afford to? Stop it, now. He’s here with me now….
And they drifted off to sleep together, arms and legs intertwined, the room ripe with the smell of sweat and cum.
WHEN THAD awakened, the morning’s light, an invader, shone brightly into the room. He squinted and sat up in bed.
Alone.
Dream images scattered. All Thad could remember was fog, a full moon, woods, and the furry face of a black dog—wolf?—with a pointed snout. The animal turning to look at him. A splash of blood on a rock, looking black in the light from the moon…. The dream images made him queasy, and he forced them from his mind.
Where was Sam? Thad cocked his head to listen. This was, after all, a studio. If Sam was still here, Thad could hear him. There would be the sound of a toilet flushing or water running. Otherwise, he’d see him, naked, in the morning light.
