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by Dawn Kimberly Johnson

  “What can I get you, Alec?” he asked.

  “Guiness for me and a red wine for Eli, please.”

  “Done and done.”

  “Where is he?” Ilsa asked, and Alec pointed.

  While he waited for their drinks, he watched Eli and Lynette engaged in an animated discussion. Their signing was fast and beautiful to watch. He could read some of it, having been with Eli long enough to pick up some British Sign Language. The tiny amount of American Sign Language he knew was so different that it did him little good with their conversation.

  It impressed him that Eli knew both, but he likened it to someone knowing two or more spoken languages. You learn it, and you simply speak it when necessary. Eli seemed to make the transition effortlessly. Alec reminded himself to push Eli for some more instruction, because whenever the two of them scheduled a practice session, it wasn’t long before their hands were doing things other than signing.

  Alec grabbed his beer and carried the wine to Eli.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Alec smiled at Lynette, set his beer down, and signed very slowly, Hello, L-Y-N-E-T-T-E. He didn’t look at her but instead watched his fingers as he signed the correct letters.

  Hi, A-L-E-C. How are you?

  Good. Thank you.

  “Sorry I ran off,” Eli said.

  Alec kissed him. “No worries.”

  Lynette waited for Alec to refocus on her. A-L-E-C, meet my boyfriend, J-I-M.

  Alec smiled apologetically. He’d only caught his and Jim’s names, but he easily guessed what was said.

  Nice to meet you, J-I-M.

  “I’m hearing,” Jim said with a smile.

  “Oh, yes? Sorry.” Alec retrieved his beer.

  “No need to apologize.”

  Eli put down his wine to sign the conversation for Lynette and translate for Alec, if need be.

  “How do you know Tony and Lyle?” Alec asked.

  “I’m an art student working part time at the gallery where Tony had his last show.”

  Lynette grinned brightly. Tony thinks J-I-M cute.

  Jim frowned at his girlfriend’s explanation, and Alec and Eli laughed. Then Alec noticed Jim looking past him, over his shoulder. “Why does that bloke keep looking over here?” he asked. Eli and Alec turned simultaneously and caught Dray watching them. He flashed them a brilliant smile and a wink before returning to his conversation, and Alec felt his face grow hot. He looked quickly at Eli.

  “Because he’s hot for my boyfriend,” Eli said.

  “Eli—”

  “It’s true! He won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” Eli grabbed his wine and took a sip. Pausing, he looked at Alec. “You have told him ‘no’ recently, haven’t you?”

  Alec remained silent.

  “Alec?”

  “He hasn’t asked me anything!”

  “A simple ‘back the fuck off’ would suffice!”

  Though she couldn’t hear them, Lynette could certainly read Eli’s face and body language. She and Jim shared a worried glance.

  Alec sighed and smiled tolerantly at Eli. “Consider it done, babe.” He leaned in and kissed him softly, instantly making Eli feel like the jealous idiot he was.

  Eli looked at the floor in shame. “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 6

  “AND this is the master bedroom,” Lyle said, sweeping his arm wide. Alec and Casey were enjoying a tour of the flat, “oohing” and “ahhing” appropriately. Alec had found the kitchen décor cold—primarily stainless steel appliances, white tile, and glass. There was sparse seating—just enough room in a breakfast nook for two to read the paper, share coffee and croissant, and gaze out on the city.

  He could imagine how the morning could breathe warmth into the room, but at night it was not a place for guests to gather and chat. Only the waitstaff buzzed in and out, as it was the staging area for the food and keeping the party well lubricated. With their white jackets, the kitchen took on the appearance of a sterile environment.

  Now this bedroom is an entirely different matter. It had a similar color scheme to the main room: the walls were alternately a warm fawn and berry, the linens gold-toned, and the furniture a deep, rich brown. There was a simple, geometric, wheat-and-gray area rug extending out from under the bed. The rest of the floor was hardwood, like the main room.

  “There’s an Asian feel to it,” Casey said.

  Lyle seemed pleased by her observation. “Yes. The colors and clean lines.” He looked around the room, nodding. “I wanted something peaceful, tranquil,” he said, looking at them, “considering the chaos of our lives outside these walls.”

  “Estate sales wearing you out?” Alec asked.

  Lyle rolled his eyes and smiled. “I love the items we handle. You see some of the most amazing pieces, and bringing them out into the open after decades behind closed doors is a wonderful experience.” He absently ran his finger over a nearby chest of drawers and checked it for dust. “Especially when they catch that one special buyer’s eye and end up in a new, loving home,” he continued, peering more closely at the dark wood and swiping away a smudge, “where they’ll be properly cared for.” He sighed heavily and looked back at his guests. “The families—they’re another matter altogether, with all their bickering and sniping.” He rubbed his temples.

  Alec saw Casey peering at the ceiling above the bed and followed her gaze. “Lyle, what are those… are those hooks in the ceiling?” she asked.

  Lyle’s doe-like brown eyes widened. “Er… um—”

  A crash from the main room, followed by gasps and raised, concerned voices, ended their conversation abruptly. The three of them hustled back to the front of the apartment. Alec saw a young waiter with short red hair standing stock-still in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on the floor as the headwaiter and an assistant hastily cleaned up the mess from a dropped tray of hors d’oeuvres at his feet. Lyle rushed forward to help.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Davies,” the headwaiter said. “I don’t understand—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jacob,” Lyle said as he scooped up the few remaining canapés, crudités, Bruschetta, and cold cuts. “It’s just a dropped tray. It happens.” The items were quickly collected, placed back on the tray—the assistant rushing into the kitchen with it—and the floor swabbed clean. It was like it had never happened—except for the staring guests and the trembling waiter.

  Jacob stood and sighed, glancing apologetically at Lyle again and taking hold of the young waiter’s arm. “Come with me, Michael,” he said quietly, but the young man refused to move. “Michael?” He tugged on his arm again. “What is it?” he hissed into his ear. Michael would not budge. His gaze remained glued to the floor as the music continued to play mindlessly in the background and some of the guests went back to their conversations. Many did not, however. “You’re making a spectacle!” The headwaiter tugged again, but to no avail.

  He and Lyle looked at each other, and Lyle turned to look at Alec. They were at a loss. Alec could see Tony approaching the stalemate, and then he caught Eli’s eye from across the room. Eli shrugged. Alec promptly handed his drink to Casey and stepped forward to join the three men.

  Speaking softly, he said, “Michael, my name is Alec. Will you come with me, please?” He thought he saw tears on the man’s cheeks. “We can find a quieter place and talk, if you like.” He hooked his arm with Michael’s, clasping the man’s hand between his own, and then took a step. Michael’s eyes followed the movement of Alec’s foot, and then his own foot shuffled forward to join it. “Here we go.” Alec patted the hand in his.

  The two of them walked slowly, side by side from the room.

  “The bedroom?” Lyle asked softly. Michael immediately stopped walking and began to tremble. They were standing just outside the door to Lyle’s office.

  “Let’s go in here, huh?” Alec said, turning them to the right. Lyle opened the office door and flicked on the light. Alec and his charge shuffled
into the small, brightly lit room, and Alec deposited Michael on a low, light-green loveseat. However when he attempted to reach for the desk chair, he was brought up short by the painful grip Michael had on his hand. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” He looked to Lyle pleadingly. He rushed in and brought the chair to Alec before leaving them alone and closing the door behind him.

  “TONY, get away from there!” Lyle hissed.

  The artist jumped and, momentarily befuddled, spun around, his blond ponytail whipping out behind him as he searched for the quickest route away from Lyle’s office door—where he’d been nonchalantly trying to overhear Alec and the young waiter. Eli, Lyle, and Casey giggled quietly as he rushed by them toward a small group of his gallery friends.

  Eli looked at the clock over the bar. “They’ve been in there quite a while.” The others nodded and sipped their drinks. In addition to Alec and Michael, they’d lost several other guests. Lynette and Jim had left for the airport to pick up Jim’s mother, who was coming for a visit. Lynette was terrified she wouldn’t pass muster with the woman, but Eli had talked her down and prevented her from having yet another drink. He was relieved that Dray had left with one of Tony’s visiting art-critic friends, in town for a few days from Los Angeles. He and Eli exchanged parting frowns as he exited.

  Eli also kept an eye on Casey and Ilsa as they warmed up to each other again after a few short, tense moments earlier. They’d lost sight of Ilsa about twenty minutes before, but she was soon discovered in the kitchen chatting with a waitress. Apparently they’d met some time ago when the young woman had applied for a hosting position at Peaches—the restaurant where Ilsa was head chef. Eli had watched Casey wind herself up in preparation for a jealous fit as Ilsa stood there, wide-eyed and tensing before the coming storm, but he quickly advised Casey that “Ilsa doesn’t do jealousy.” She calmed down, and Ilsa rejoined the party with her.

  Jacob, the headwaiter, continued to do his job efficiently but also kept glancing at the office door, as did another young waiter—and Michael’s best friend—Lincoln. The door opened, prompting Lincoln’s tray of champagne to rattle frighteningly, but he steadied himself. Alec spotted Jacob in the kitchen. He caught his eye and motioned for him to come over. Eli watched the man weave his way through the guests and speak quietly with Alec. Then he went over to Lincoln, took his tray and spoke to him, the young man nodding frequently. Lincoln began quickly undoing his tie and headed toward the office where he and Alec entered, shutting the door again.

  Eli watched the entire exchange and saw Jacob sigh and wipe his brow before their eyes met. The man smiled brightly but falsely at him and handed the champagne tray off to another waiter who buzzed by. Eli thought Jacob looked like he was more than ready for this night to end.

  Chapter 7

  ABANDONING Ilsa and Casey to the party, Eli and Alec took a taxi home. On the way, they held hands, Eli absently stroking the back of Alec’s with his thumb. He kept smiling to himself, proud of the way Alec had come to the rescue, taking charge, and helping the panicked young waiter. He glanced over at his boyfriend, sitting silently next to him, apparently lost in thought, the streetlights periodically flashing across his face as they neared their destination.

  “Did you have a good time tonight?” Eli asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “At the party… a good time?”

  “Oh, yes,” Alec said, turning to look at him. “Yeah, sure.” He grinned and turned back to the window.

  “You were wonderful with that waiter. He looked terrified.”

  “Thanks.” Alec sighed and smiled weakly. “Some sort of panic attack.” He glanced at Eli. “I never did get it out of him… what was wrong, I mean.”

  “At least you helped him calm down… and he seemed fine when he left with his mate.”

  “Yeah.” Alec looked back out the window. “I just wish I knew what had set him off.” Eli squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I spoke to his friend, the other waiter, before they headed out, and he told me Michael was just returning after a leave of absence.”

  “He’d been ill?”

  “No… not physically. He wasn’t really clear.”

  The taxi stopped in front of their house, and Eli paid the driver while Alec held the door for him. They headed up the walk together. The night was perfect—the sky clear and filled with stars, the breeze warm enough that a jacket was unnecessary—which was odd, considering the earlier storm. They’d left the lights on in the front hall, and a warm glow emanated from the windows, welcoming them home. While Alec busied himself with unlocking the door, Eli rested his cheek against Alec’s shoulder, sliding his hand under his jacket to caress his boyfriend’s back.

  With all five of them living there, it was rare to come home to an empty house. But now that Lyle and Tony had their own place and Ilsa spent a lot of time at Casey’s flat—in fact, was probably planning to do so tonight—it would be happening more frequently. Eli wandered on toward his bedroom while Alec stopped at the hall table to look through the mail he’d avoided examining earlier.

  “Hungry?” Eli asked.

  “Hmm? No.” Alec didn’t raise his head, just focused on the mail. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Eli watched Alec continue shuffling through the envelopes. “Me?” he said, pausing just at the entrance to his bedroom. “I’m staaahhhving.” He grinned at the effect this had as Alec’s hands froze, his head coming up and looking at Eli just as he vanished into the darkened room. He moved quickly behind his door and waited, laughing softly to himself.

  “Eli?” Alec called, but he didn’t answer.

  The hall light reached into his room a ways, and his weak, flickering bathroom light struggled to stay on, but other than that, the room was very dark. He waited, his heart beating a bit faster in anticipation. Come find me, love.

  He thought he heard Alec approaching slowly. “Eli?” He was closer now, and Eli held his breath. “Where are you?” Alec stepped forward, his hands on the doorframe, prepared to flee, from what Eli could discern between the door hinges. Alec chuckled nervously. “I feel an ambush coming on.” He stepped into the room.

  Eli slammed the door shut, and Alec whirled around, but Eli took advantage of the few seconds it would take for Alec’s eyes to adjust to even less light and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him, spinning him, and shoving him against the door.

  “I thought you liked being ambushed,” Eli whispered, pressing against Alec and sliding his hands beneath Alec’s shirt to caress his chest. Alec moaned softly when Eli’s fingers skittered across his nipples and Eli’s mouth nipped and kissed Alec’s neck.

  “Mr. Burke,” Alec panted, finding his lover’s mouth and tongue. It was Eli’s turn to moan, and Alec caught him by the front of his suit jacket and turned him, swiftly switching their positions and pressing him into the door. He winced when Alec pulled his hair to expose his neck, but he couldn’t deny that the action caused his cock to twitch and swell.

  He loved this back and forth, this “who’s turning who on more” competition, and he loosened Alec’s belt to slide his hands down the back of his pants and grip Alec’s behind. Eli smiled as Alec grunted, pressing forward and trying to pin him in place, trying to keep him from escaping, but he wasn’t having it. Eli broke the kiss and shoved Alec away from him. He grabbed his cane, always at hand, and pointed the tip at Alec’s chest like a lion tamer with a chair, keeping his beautiful beast at bay.

  Tugging his shirt free and unbuttoning it with one hand, Eli walked unsteadily toward Alec, backing him up against the bed, where his boyfriend stumbled backward and abruptly sat. He tossed the cane to the floor and straddled Alec’s lap, pinning his hands on either side of his head before leaning closer and capturing his mouth for a quick, teasing kiss.

  “I win,” he growled.

  “Mmm, you’re feeling froggy,” Alec said, licking Eli’s bottom lip before he was out of reach again. Eli knew Alec wanted nothing more than to touch him, therefore he refuse
d to allow it. He knew that behavior—that dance—drove Alec crazy too.

  “What’s froggy?”

  Alec nodded. “Warm and fuzzy, sexy, amorous—”

  “Listen to you and your vocab. How about horny?”

  Alec laughed. “Yes… although I was going for something a bit less explicit.”

  “Oh come, love. You know you want to fuck me.” Eli smiled wickedly, putting more pressure on Alec’s hands and keeping him from moving as he slowly rubbed his bottom against his boyfriend’s erection. “Say it,” Eli whispered against his ear.

  Alec’s eyes fluttered closed, and he grinned stupidly. “I want to f-fuck you.”

  Eli quickly tugged Alec’s shirt free of his jeans. Hands now loose, Alec went right for the bare torso he could glimpse through Eli’s open shirt. He ran his palms and fingers over his hard, flat abdomen and up, across his slightly hairy chest to pinch his nipples.

  Eli twitched, and Alec sat up suddenly, kissing his neck and stripping the shirt and jacket off of his shoulders. Eli finished the job, shaking his clothes off his arms and onto the floor before forcing Alec back down.

  “Am I going to have to tie you down?” he whispered, gripping Alec’s jacket, unceremoniously yanking it off the man, and tossing it next to his on the floor.

  “Watch my buttons,” Alec warned.

  “Yeah, I’ll watch your buttons!” Eli grabbed Alec’s shirt and tore it open.

  Alec squeezed his eyes shut to the sound of many tiny, tinkling impacts as the scattered buttons hit the headboard, wall, and lamp, but he was grinning.

  “Why are there so many clothes?” Eli asked, chuckling as he struggled to get them both undressed. He leaned in close, breathing heavily into Alec’s ear as he rubbed himself more urgently against him.

  “If we d-don’t slow down, I’m going to come before I’m inside you!”

  “Who says you’ll be inside me?” Eli reached down, finally freeing Alec’s cock and gripping it possessively.