Tommy Clay stood between Chance and the woman in the pink dress when the show returned from commercial break. He smiled when he slowly announced that the grand prize winner of the recipe competition was the woman in the pink dress.
Chance waited to feel disappointed, but he felt nothing, and that was even worse.
The winner jumped up and down, waving her long pink fingernails, shouting, "Oh my golly, y'all! Oh my golly gosh, y'all!" with the exaggerated Southern accent. Chance forced a smile and congratulated her. He shook Tommy's soft, limp hand when he accepted second place, and his prize of one thousand dollars. When the show went off the air, both of the other judges ignored the woman with the pink dress and approached Chance to tell him that he was a very talented chef and that he shouldn't be discouraged by this contest. The producer of the show actually came over and handed him a business card. "Call me if you ever need a recommendation. I have friends in Paris and I'd like to see you attend cooking school there." Then they all turned their backs on Tommy Clay and walked off the set.
That night, Chance drove back to the lake and parked the car at The Island. He turned off the lights and leaned the seat all the way back. When he closed his eyes, he rubbed the thousand-dollar check in his pocket. Though devastated, he finally smiled when it occurred to him that he'd won second prize and he had a check for a thousand dollars to prove it. The thing that made him stop smiling before he fell asleep in
the car that night was Brody. He knew he'd lost him forever.
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The next morning, Chance drove to the only pay phone left in town and called Sarah. And a half-hour later, they met for coffee at a small cafe on Lakeside Boulevard, not far from Dan's market. Sarah wore gray sweatpants and her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail; small, red ringlets and frizzy corkscrews broke free from the rubber band and framed her round, freckled face. Sunday was her day off, and she looked sleepy—normally, she'd still be in bed. He stood from the table and gave her a hug. She'd watched the show. She squeezed him hard and said, "I know you wanted to win first prize, but at least you won second. And I think that's something to celebrate. I thought you were great."
He asked the waitress to bring them two cups of black coffee, and thanked Sarah. He laughed and shook his head, then sat down and told her all about the bitchy woman in the pink dress and how Tommy Clay had tried to get into his pants before the show. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "So you really did win first prize. Just not officially." But she was so shocked about Tommy Clay that her voice went shriller. She couldn't believe that he was "into guys," and that he'd actually ruin someone's chances to win an important competition because he wouldn't sleep with him.
Chance hadn't thought about it that way. According to the other judges, he had won the grand prize. Just not officially. He smiled and said, "I guess I did win."
The waitress placed two cups of coffee on the table, then Sarah lowered her head and reached for his hand. "Brody's mother died last week," she said.
Chance's heart hurt.
"He came into the market yesterday afternoon," Sarah continued, "an hour after you'd left, and he told me. That's why he didn't come around again last week." She patted Chance's hand and frowned. "The guy is really freaked out about you. He said he can't even sleep at night."
"He actually came into the market?" Chance asked. He'd specifically told Brody never to come there while he was working. That was so typical of Brody, forging ahead without thinking about the consequences. A total control freak.
"He really wants to see you before he leaves town," she said. "He literally begged me to talk to you." She sat back and took a sip of coffee, then sighed. "I don't see how it could hurt, now that he's leaving town. At least part on good terms."
Chance lifted a spoon from the table and stared at a water stain. He knew Brody hadn't been close to his mother, but he also knew that Brody kept a great deal hidden inside, so he had to be grieving. "I'll think about it," he said.
"Are you still mad at him?"
He smiled and set the spoon down on the table. "Not really." It had occurred to him earlier that even if he'd wanted to stay mad at Brody, it wasn't possible.
Sarah told him about how confusing things had been at the market after he'd left for New York. "The old man didn't even know how to slice the deli meat for poor Gladys Johnson. There she was, waiting patiently for a pound of bologna, and he jammed the machine and couldn't get it to work again. He got so frustrated he cut her a two-inch thick piece of bologna with a bread knife and gave it to her for free. After that, he told me to go home early and he closed the market before any more customers came in." She gulped back a swallow of coffee and lifted her hands in the air. "When I saw the expression on his face, I ran out the door."
Chanced laughed and folded his hands on top of the table. He knew Sunday wouldn't be much better with Sarah off and Dan trying to work the entire market with a lazy, part-time cashier he hated.
After he left Sarah, he drove around the lake for about an hour, but whether it was to postpone or gather courage, he couldn't tell. Finally, he headed back toward Brody's house around noon. When he slowly pulled up to the end of the driveway, Brody was carrying large boxes down to a bulky pile of trash near the road. Four large, heavy boxes. Most men would have taken them one at a time, but Brody liked to prove his strength whenever he could. He placed them on top of a plastic-covered hospital bed mattress and stared at Chance's car. The top was down and Chance looked him. It was getting warm and thick and the heat wave was settling in around the lake; Brody was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and running shoes, and he had dark perspiration stains between his legs. Chance got out of the car and said, "I'm sorry about your mother, Brody."
Brody shrugged his shoulders. "She went peacefully, in her sleep." He stared down at the pile of trash for a moment and jerked his head sideways.
"I guess that's best," Chance said quietly. He wanted Brody to know he cared, but that he wasn't there for any other reason. "Do you need any help carrying boxes or anything?"
"Naw," Brody said, waving his arm. "I'm good. This is basically the last of it. It's just hospital stuff and boxes of medical supplies I don't want lying around when I'm gone." He kicked a few stones in the driveway and stared at the pavement. Then he lifted his head and looked Chance in the eye. "I'm sorry about everything. I fucked up, baby. I'm sorry." He spread his arms out a little, and then opened his hands so his palms were facing Chance.
When Brody tilted his head, Chance stomach jumped. Brody's blue eyes were wet and glossy; he really did seem sorry. "It's okay. I don't want to talk about it again, Brody." He lowered his head and sniffed back a few times. His bottom lip began to quiver and he had to bite it to keep from crying. That was the last thing he wanted to do.
"I like the way you say my name," Brody said. "No one says it like you. It's just different, like you care."
"That's because I
do
care."
"I'm glad you came over today," Brody said. "I wouldn't have known how to get in touch with you if you hadn't." He lifted his head and smiled. "But I saw you on TV last night. Sarah told me to watch."
"Ah, well," he said, "I didn't win the grand prize, but I would have if I'd slept with one of the judges." He wanted Chance to know the reason why he'd won second place instead of first. "Tommy Clay, the celebrity chef, tried to get into my pants before the show, and I turned him down. He didn't like that, and I lost out."
Brody smiled. "Why did you turn him down? He's not a bad-looking guy."
"Because I'm either an ethical idiot, or I'm in love with someone else," Chance said, then added, "Even though I already know it probably won't go anywhere." He didn't want Brody to think he was there begging for anything. Brody was leaving town, and that was a fact. But he wanted Brody to know how he felt.
Brody took a few steps toward him. "I'm proud of you ... for not sleeping with a judge
and
for winning second place," he said. "And you looked really hot. I jerked off to the TV while you were cooking that lasagna thing."
Chance's head jerked and he held back a huge smile. One of the things he loved most about Brody was his ability to make a serious conversation lighter with silly jokes. "You did not, you big fool."
"Oh yes, I really did ... jerked off, made a mess all over the bed, and had to change my sheets. You look fucking hot on TV, baby. I was banging my dick against the TV screen."
Chance smiled. "That's because you're a sex maniac and a filthy pervert."
Brody leaned back and grabbed his dick. "You want to go down to the boat house for a while and really see what kind of filthy pervert I am? We can go inside the big house, but I like it down there better."
"Do you think I can take a shower?" Chance asked. "I haven't had one since yesterday morning." His voice sounded a bit wrecked and his shoulders were slumped.
Brody smiled and extended his right arm. "You can do whatever you want."
When they were in the boat house, Brody went directly into the small bathroom and turned on the ancient shower. The water splashed on the tin walls loudly. Then he came out and kicked off his running shoes and pulled off his sweatpants. He was semi-erect and his heavy dick bounced off his hairy thighs a few times. Chance stood there and watched him strip. He looked like a messy little boy throwing his things around the room. He smelled a little like onions and raw meat because he'd been working and sweating. Chance inhaled the wonderful, masculine aroma and felt light-headed until Brody said, "I'll wait for you in the shower." When he turned, he purposely kicked a shoebox out from under the bed. He jerked back as if it had been an accident and said, "I almost forgot. I got you a present. They are in that box." His voice became unusually animated.
Chance smiled and shook his head. "Are you sure that what's in that box is a present for
me
? I have this feeling I know what's inside that box, and this present is really for
you
."
Brody kicked the top of the box off with his large,bare foot. There was a bright red pair of stilettos inside. "Ah well," he said, "I guess this is a present for both of us." Then he loped into the bathroom and went inside the shower stall.
A moment later, Chance carefully stepped into the blazing hot shower wearing nothing but the red stilettos. Brody wrapped both hands under his arms and squeezed his chest hard. He pulled Chance back against his body and held him tightly while searing, steamy water drenched his body. The old tin shower stall seemed a bit flimsy when he spread his legs and pressed his ass up to Brody's erection; the high heels scratched against the floor.
"These shoes might get ruined in here," Chance whispered, pressing his ass hard against Brody's cock.
Brody squeezed his chest, and said, "I don't fucking care. I'll buy you new ones."
When Brody slid his dick up and down Chance's ass crack, the tin floor creaked and dented inward like a disposable aluminum roasting pan. Brody squeezed his chest tighter and started to pound into his ass crack; he stretched his arms up to the tin ceiling and arched his back. Then Brody reached for a bar of soap with his right hand. He slowly ran it all over Chance's body: under his arms, below his balls and around his erection, and then up and down his ass. He shoved the bar of soap into the opening and started to scrub. He polished and cleaned with the side of his hand, then shoved a soapy finger inside Chance's hole and cleaned some more. Chance's mouth fell open and hot water dripped down his lips. He turned his head to the side so he wouldn't choke on the water while he moaned and gasped.
Then Brody placed the bar of soap back on the shelf, and Chance reached back for his rod. He was about to go down on his knees to thank Brody for cleaning his ass so well, but Brody whispered, "Keep standing, bitch. I'm gonna lick that pussy hole now." And then
he
went down on
his
knees and grabbed both sides of Chance's round ass. Chance's eyes widened. While the water flooded Brody's face, he spread Chance's ass apart and stuck out his tongue. He licked from the bottom of Chance's sweet, long crack all the way up to the top a few times, and then he shoved it directly into his hole and started to circle the opening with the tip of his tongue. Brody squeezed and grabbed his ass cheeks as if he were shaping a meat loaf.
Chance threw his head back and begged for more. "Oh yes ... don't stop." He spread his legs so wide one of the red high heels went outside of the shower stall.
When Brody stopped licking, he stood up and grabbed Chance by the waist. He pulled hard and shoved him up against the back of the shower stall; he actually lifted him off the ground for a moment to maneuver him in the right position. Chance had been with Brody enough times by then to know that he was beyond the point of foreplay and now the only thing he cared about was getting inside and getting off. So he leaned forward and pressed his palms against the tin stall so he could submit to Brody's strength completely, then arched his back and spread his legs. He stood on his tiptoes and Brody pressed the head of his prick to Chance's bud. It was already numb and relaxed and ready to open wide from all the tongue action. The big dick slipped into his body without so much as a jerk or a hint of pain, and Brody nailed his ass to the tin wall. Chance stood a little higher on his tiptoes and backed into Brody's dick, and they fell into the same waltz rhythm Chance had come to know and anticipate:
one
, two, three ...
one
, two, three. On the count of
one
Brody went deep and smacked into his ass and Chance backed into the big, wide thing as hard as he could. Brody whispered, "That's it, bitch," then he spanked his bare ass so hard his ears started to pound.
"Fuck me, man," Chance whispered. His mouth was open and his tongue was hanging out. He couldn't wait to see the red marks on his ass after this pounding session.
"Oh yeah," Brody said. "I'm gonna fuck my little highheeled bitch ... I'm gonna shove my dirty dick all the way up his hole and fuck his brains out."
"Harder," Chance shouted. "Harder and deeper, man. You feel so huge."
Brody's breathing grew heavier and he began to pant. He placed his palms above Chance's hands and pinned his entire body to the shower stall. The side of Chance's face rested on the tin. He opened his mouth and took one of Brody's large fingers inside and began to suck it. Brody fucked more rapidly—the tin wall dented inward and Chance's dick rubbed alongside it. Brody shouted, "Here it comes, bitch ... I'm gonna breed that pussy ass again," and then he deposited his come in Chance's hole. He bucked hard a few times and grunted like an overworked horse. Chance reached down, jerked his own dick a few times, and exploded all over the tin wall. When Brody started to fuck slowly so he could squeeze out a few more drops, Chance's hand was still on his dick. He jerked it again and came a second time, with a less intense orgasm that produced a few more small pearls of white cream.
He let go of his dick and sank back into Brody's warm body while water splashed on his face. Brody was still buried inside and he was rocking his hips in slow, circular motions. "I missed you, baby," Brody said. He stuck his tongue into Chance's mouth and kissed him so hard, the back of his head hit the wall and the soap fell off the shelf.
They fell into bed soaking wet a moment later and took a two-hour nap. When Chance opened his eyes, his head was resting on Brody's wide chest and he was holding Brody's cock in the palm of his hand. The wet red stilettos were still on his feet, too. He slid under the covers, put his head between Brody's legs, and sucked the penis into his mouth. Brody smelled damp and soapy and clean. His cock was soft, but the moment he pressed his tongue against the shaft, it started to grow inside his mouth. Brody yawned and spread his legs, then rammed his hips into Chance's face. When he saw the red high heels sticking out from beneath the covers, his dick grew even harder. Chance sucked with a smooth, even tempo and closed his eyes, jerking his own dick at the same time. It didn't take long for Brody to release another stream of fervor into his mouth. Chance gulped a few times and swallowed back, then jerked his own stick with Brody still in his mouth until he blew a load all over Brody's hairy legs.
When the dick finally fell from his mouth, he rested his head on Brody's chest again and sighed. Brody smiled and reached for his ass. He squeezed it a few times and said, "That was nice, baby."
Chance smiled and reached for Brody's balls so he could gently massage them. But eventually, his smile faded. "I have to get up and get dressed now."
"Where are you going?" Brody asked. "Sarah said when you walked out of the market, the old man told you not to come back."
"I have to go back," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't have any other choice. I'm going to beg him for my job and do what I have to do to get on with my life." Brody's balls felt both large and soft in his hand; he knew how much Brody liked it when he massaged them very lightly. His legs kept opening wider and his voice quivered a little each time Chance squeezed. He wanted to go under the covers and roll them around in his mouth, but it was time to leave.
Brody frowned and shook his head. "I'm leaving Tuesday, you know. I don't have a choice either. My mother is gone and my leave is over, so I have to return to Europe."