Knave of Broken Hearts (20 page)

“But he’d be dealing with you.”

“Still.” His gaze crept back to Ken, who was glancing toward him, and their eyes met. Ken tilted his lips upward and raised a glass of something sparkling just slightly toward Jim. Jim took a deep breath.

“My father’s seldom been known to cut off his nose to spite his face. I think he’d still want to talk to you.”

“It would be up to Billy.”

“That must have been a shock, huh? Finding out your friend was gay.”

“A surprise, yeah. Billy’s a pretty macho guy. But really sweet too, and smart as hell.”

She smiled softly. “Sounds like you could be describing yourself.”

“What? No. I’m not anything like Billy.”

Charlie pushed through a crowd of people and stopped in front of their booth. “Hey, boss lady, I reserved the board. You up for another round of darts? Bet I can beat you this time.”

“Do you mind, Jim?”

“No problem but I think you’re being optimistic, Charlie.” Jim slid out to let Constance exit the booth. “I’ve got to go visit the men’s room anyway.” He stepped aside for Charlie and Constance, then glanced at Ken sitting down the bar. Women all over the room still stared at him. At the moment the doc appeared deep in conversation with the pretty boy next to him. Even more than he had Gene Willings, Jim wanted to go smack the kid.
I’ll bet somebody’s mama thinks that guy is just fine.

He threaded through the crowd to the bathroom. Two men stood at the urinals. He didn’t want to pee so much as just be alone, so he grabbed an empty stall. They had the kind that were little rooms with doors all the way to the ceiling. Nice and private. Inside he locked the door, pulled down the lid, and sat on it. He hadn’t exactly planned it, but tonight had been a test to prove to himself that Constance wasn’t the woman for him. He’d flunked. He liked Constance a lot. She was funny, smart, and kind. Was she a quarter inch of sugar over a foot of solid steel? Probably, but nothing wrong with that. He admired her. She’d done so much in her life, while he’d been hiding out. But did he want to take her to bed? He sighed. That was a cock of a different color.

The restroom got quiet outside his stall. No peeing sounds.
Best get back to the table.
He raised the toilet lid to use the facilities and unzipped. The sounds from the club got louder behind him as the restroom door opened, then softer as it closed.

“Jim.”

His hand froze on his cock. “Yeah.”

“Let me in.”

“Hell no.” But his cock decided peeing was a dumb idea and spronged to half-mast.

“Open up.”

Jesus.
He tucked the half boner into his open fly and unlocked the stall door, then stepped aside to let Ken in and slammed the door. How could a toilet stall be filled with so much beautiful?

Face-to-face against the two walls of the stall, they filled the place.

Jim flashed a hand at Ken. “What the hell are you doing here with your damned boy toy?”

“I know. I’m sorry. But he asked me where I wanted to go, and the words ‘Bay Bar’ came out of my mouth.”

“You don’t belong here.”

For a second Ken looked hurt. “I thought it was the woman you were trying to prove didn’t belong.”

Jim crossed his arms on his chest. “Her too.”

“You two look pretty homey to me.”

“Actually, she fits right in.”

The door outside opened, and two men’s voices started chattering against the sound of urine hitting the ceramic. Ken extended a hand and put his finger against Jim’s lips. Jesus, even his finger smelled good. Fresh and citrusy.

The guys talked on. Ken’s finger moved back and forth against his mouth. Jim turned his head to the side, but Ken stayed with him, slipping that finger between his not-quite-resisting lips until he touched his tongue. Jim gasped and Ken took advantage, pressing another finger into his mouth and sliding it against Jim’s tongue, then between his teeth and gum.

Jim’s half-mast erection sprang to full life and wouldn’t be contained by the open fly.
Pop.
Out it came, waving hi to Ken, who chuckled.

One of the voices outside said, “Do you think we ought to change the backsplash before we decide on appliances?”

The two guys had to be gay. Their conversation ranged from the latest musical at the Performing Arts Center to what type of candles to buy for their upcoming party, and they gabbed on and on as Ken stepped forward and took hold of Mr. Happy with a firm hand. He unzipped himself with the other hand and pulled those two long soldiers together into one foxhole where he started stroking, his face a mask of dark intent.

Jim started to moan and pulled it back. His lips parted and Ken leaned over and kissed him, not fun and games, but deep, probing, kick-your-socks-off sexy. The hand on his dick felt so good, he wanted to throw his head back and scream, but he kept holding back his cries until he thought his damned chest would explode.

Suddenly Ken dropped to his knees, dragged Jim’s cock into his mouth, and started sucking. Sweet holy hell, something was going to explode and soon. Ken’s tongue played up one side of Jim’s cock and down the other, then circled the head again and again. Back for a long suck. Jim’s hips popped, shoving himself more deeply into that hot hole, but it was the only place he wanted to be. “Oh God.”

Ken raised a hand as if to stop Jim from talking, but he didn’t stop sucking. His head bobbed like a duck at a carnival stand, and every move produced a flash of fire in Jim’s cock and balls.

“Oh God, oh.”

Outside the door, one of the guys giggled. “Naughty, naughty.”

Ken smiled around Jim’s cock but didn’t even break his stride. His long fingers clutched the base of Jim’s shaft and tickled his balls as he guided that cock deep into his throat. When he’d swallowed most of it, he looked up at Jim with those deep black eyes. Never in his life had Jim seen anything so totally lewd as those full lips stretched around his cock. Jesus, he wanted to see it forever. He pushed his hips forward a little more and Ken’s mouth stretched. Then he pulled back and the Angelina lips squeezed tighter, like he didn’t want to let go.

Fuck it.
Jim gritted his teeth, gazed into Ken’s eyes, and thrust, thrust, thrust. His vision blurred, red dots fluttered behind his eyelids, and his heart hammered like someone hitting a ball against his chest. He gasped. Again. His eyes closed, and the first shot of cum timed with the first burst of ecstasy, starting in his balls and firing out like rockets into his arms, legs, head, and brain. “Uhhh, uh.”

He opened his eyes in time to see Ken’s throat working as he swallowed and swallowed. Dear God, not a sight he’d ever forget.

The guys outside both giggled together. “Oooh, that was sexy. I about came in my jeans. Thanks, you guys.”

Some more voices moved into the restroom.

Jim looked at Ken as he rose to standing. Jim nodded toward Ken’s obvious erection and whispered, “My turn.”

Ken leaned in and nuzzled his ear. “No. We both have to get back. But you owe me big time and don’t forget it.” He grinned as he adjusted himself. “You taste good.” He leaned over and kissed Jim hard, sharing the flavor of salt and musk. “See you soon.”

He pressed an ear against the door until Jim heard the voices outside fade away. Then Ken opened the door of the stall, slipped out, and closed it again.
Good thing. Not sure I can recover that fast.

Jim breathed slowly until he softened enough to pee, dressed himself, left the stall, ignored the two guys at the urinals, and washed. Outside, Constance looked up from where she was talking with Charlie. Charlie stared at him with slightly wild eyes and Jim shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I ran into a client, and he wouldn’t shut up.”

Constance gave him a little cock of the head. “No problem. Charlie’s been keeping me company. I know how demanding those clients can be.”

It felt good to laugh.

She grinned. “So do you think I can snag you as my escort to an event on Friday?”

Oh shit.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

 

 

H
IT
BY
a baseball bat. That’s how he felt, and he knew what he was talking about because he’d actually had that happen in junior high. Weird, spacey, not aware of the pain yet. He slipped the key in the apartment door and opened it. Anderson, who looked like he’d grown by double in a few days, bounded toward the door, then turned his shiny white back, flicked his tail, and stalked away like “Look what you’ve been missing.”

Ian lolled on the ugly couch with the phone pressed to his ear and a stupid smile on his face. He waggled a bare foot as Jim passed by to his bedroom. Kind of envied him that smile. Looked like romance pure and simple. Jim sighed. He could use a healthy dose of pure and simple.

He turned on the shower in the minibath, stripped, and stepped under water that was just lukewarm. Ian must have used a bit. It only took a bit to empty the apartment’s allotted amount. After drying off, he pulled on some pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and was just flopping on the bed when the tap came on the door. “Come on in, Ian.”

The door opened and Anderson came first, hopping straight onto the bed and settling on Jim’s pillow before Ian even made it fully inside. He smiled. “Hey, Jim, how was the date?”

That might have seemed like an easy, polite question, but it was a total minefield. “Fine. I gather you and Rico have struck up a friendship.”

His cheeks turned pink. “Yeah. He’s a great guy and has been all the places I want to go—like architecture school.”

That felt like a blow to the head. Jim stared at his feet. “Doesn’t that make him too old for you?”

“Thanks there, Mom.” He laughed.

Dammit, Ian needed more of a mom than the one he’d had. “Sorry.”

“Actually he’s only four years older. He’s this prodigy who started college at sixteen and finished architecture school in five years.”

“Talented guy.”

“I think so too.” Sappy smile redux.

Jim crossed his legs and gave his brother’s hair a swipe. “Not as talented as you.”

“He agrees with you.” Ian’s giggle reminded Jim of the guys outside the bathroom stall, and his cock gave a little jerk. Ian flopped on his back on the end of the bed, not distressing Anderson at all. “So tell me more about your date.”

“I’m gay.”

Ian sat straight up like a zombie. “What the fuck? You told me you weren’t.”

Jim caught his breath and tried to get his brain to catch up with his mouth. “I know. And maybe I’m not, but—shit, I don’t know.” That moment in the bathroom stall when he’d come into Ken’s hot, endless throat—“I just don’t like sex with women as much as I like sex with men.” How was that for the understatement of the century?

“Hang on. You’ve had sex with men?” Ian mirrored Jim’s position and stared at him like the head of the Inquisition.

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. No, I mean, once, and some other—sort of.”

“I think we better talk about this.”

“Now who’s being the mother?”

Stern gaze. “You need guidance when it comes to this. Talk.”

“I had sex with Ken Tanaka.”

“Sex sex?”

“Yeah and a couple of blow jobs.” Jesus, that did not begin to do justice to the situation.

“When he was here?”

“Uh, not exactly. Since then.”

“That may not make you gay.”

“What?”

Ian cocked a half smile. “That guy’s so gorgeous, he could seduce Pastor Rick.”

“I know, and I kind of agree with you. I don’t generally get hard-ons for guys, except for Ken.”

“It’s a ‘gay for you’ situation, then.”

“What’s that mean?”

“A straight man who falls for one guy and never gets tempted by any others. Some people believe in it. Mostly in romance novels.” He smiled.

Jim stared at the faded bedspread. “Except I can’t get it up for women anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“I was never Don Juan, okay? But I’ve had some orgasms with females. Just not lately.”

“What about when you were in puberty? I was little, but I remember you hanging out with girls and shit.”

Jim sighed. “Yeah.”

“Were you attracted to them? I mean, were you trying to get to first base and all that boy/girl drama?”

“No.”

“Bad sign. For your future heterosexuality, I mean.”

“I was getting sucked off by my tutor.”

Ian’s eyes widened. “The Japanese kid?”

“Hiro.”

“I remember him. He was a really nice guy. Sweet. Smart.”

Back to the bedspread. “Yes, well, I treated him like crap. I told myself I was this great friend, letting him suck me because it made him happy.” His heart thudded against his chest. “Then he was gone because of me.”

Ian frowned. “Something about some pictures, right? I kind of remember that.”

“Yeah.”

“That happened right before you left.” Ian’s head turned. Yeah, he got the drift.

The threads on the bedspread are so even.
Jim nodded.

“You left because of Hiro? Because you knew you were gay and Mom and Dad wouldn’t stand for it?”

“No. I never thought of that. It was probably true, but I wouldn’t have admitted it. Shit, I was the tough guy. The athlete. The one who built things and made them work. I couldn’t be a fag.” He picked at his socks. “No, all I knew was I’d wrecked the life of the nicest person I’d ever known. I couldn’t act like everything was normal. I couldn’t go be the football hero and pretend I wasn’t a piece of shit. So I left.”

“That was so brave.”

Jim’s head snapped up. “What the fuck? You’re crazy.”

“You refused to live the life they defined for you, so you went out and made your own.”

He shook his head. “Thanks, kid, but that’s sentimental crap. It might be true if I’d declared myself gay and made a life working honestly with my hands and proving it’s cool to be a blue-collar guy. Yeah—no. Hell, look around. I scrape by doing the minimum except when it comes to alcohol and junk food. I’d still be laying every woman I found if I could just get Roger down there to cooperate.”

“You were sixteen, Jim. Hell, it takes time to figure shit out.”

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