He frowned. “Go file yourself, asshole.”
~
By two Braxton was slumped low in the back of the
limousine, the last to be dropped off. Scott parked in front of his office and opened the back door. “You okay to drive home,
Braxton?”
“Yeah. Sober. Unfortunately.” He climbed out as Scott
hauled him to his feet from the low slung car. He landed in
Scott’s embrace.
Braxton knew how this man operated and being urged into a
full body hug was Scott’s style. This handsome chauffeur may
have fucked more individuals than Braxton did. Rumor had it
he’d had a three-way with Carl Bronson and Keith O’Leary, the
stars of Forever Young.
He gave Scott a wry smile. “I can’t. I am dead on my feet.”
“It’s not your feet I’m interested in.”
A laugh worked its way out of Braxton but even that sounded
exhausted to him. “Let me go, babe. I seriously have to be
horizontal.”
“Mm.” Scott held Braxton around his waist and ground a stiff
cock into his groin. “Me too.”
As his neck was nibbled, chills washed over Braxton’s skin.
“Can I take a rain-check, hot stuff?”
“Sure.” Scott backed off and adjusted his cap, looking like a
strip-o-gram.
Braxton touched his cheek tenderly and headed to the parking
garage and his Porsche, hearing the limousine cruise away
behind him. He started the engine, flipped down the visor and
looked at himself. His eyes were red and he appeared worn out.
In disgust he pushed the visor back in place and drove home, so
tired he was glad to have made it safely.
Once inside his residence, he undressed, washed up quickly
and dropped into his king-sized bed. Right before he fell asleep
he thought of Fabian, and dozed off.
~
After watching all the late night shows, Fabian washed up for
bed and crawled under the covers. He checked his phone for any
missed messages and read the hour on it as well. It was nearing
two. He shut off the lamp on his nightstand and closed his eyes,
releasing a deep breath. The temp job was coming to an end, and
he had to really get serious about pounding the pavement and
getting something permanent. He just didn’t know what he
wanted to do with his life, and although when he first graduated
college he did, he felt lost at the moment.
After tossing and turning for an hour, Fabian finally fell
asleep.
Chapter 4
After sleeping in very late Saturday morning, Braxton went to
the gym and met his personal trainer, Tyson Hopper, who kicked
his ass with a new cross-training routine. But…
Braxton wanted to feel and look buff for the charity auction.
Enduring Tyson’s torture for an hour, Braxton then headed to
the locker room of the sleek LA fitness club. He had an
appointment with Kellie Hamilton for a massage and showered
quickly to get ready for him. Everything in his life was on such a
rigid time schedule, Braxton never stopped looking at his watch
or his phone to keep from being late.
He had the red carpet event before the auction, and was
exhausted already just thinking about being his best for
this…date with three strangers. The idea literally made him
cringe but it was for a good cause, and he would never let Sophia
down. She had done so much for him in the past, he owed her.
He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around
his hips and caught his reflection in the mirror as he went. He
stopped and ran his fingers through his hair, seeing it was indeed
getting long. Should I cut it?
Nah. It’s wet, that’s why it looks so long. He kept walking to his locker and used the towel to dry his hair better before his
massage. Of course, after that, he’d be coated in oil and need
another shower, so he ran a brush over his locks just to tame
them and felt a pat on his naked bottom. He spun around to see a
young man he had a hook-up with a few months ago, Joe.
“Still firm…mm.”
Braxton laughed and reached for his briefs to slip on under a
robe the salon supplied.
“Braxton…got time for…?”
“Time. What a concept. I don’t even have time to fucking
nudging his long wet hair out of his eyes. “Well, Joe Denver,
how the hell are you?”
“Would be better shooting my cum all over you.” He grabbed
his own crotch and made a face of pleasure.
“Yeah. Probably.” Braxton smiled and began making his way
to the exit of the locker room to meet Kellie.
“Where are you going?” Joe asked, sounding disappointed.
“I’m actually paying a man to touch me.” Braxton winked
and headed to the desk to the woman who made Kellie’s
appointments. He leaned on the counter with his elbow near her.
“Hey. I’m Braxton Todd. I have an appointment with Kellie.”
“You do!” She smiled sweetly. “Go back. He’s already ready
for you and told me to send you in.”
“Great.” Braxton walked around the wall where photos of the
massage therapists with their credentials and certificates were
hung. He tapped on Kellie’s door and heard him call him to
enter.
Inside it was dim and smelled like herbal oils. The massage
table was prepared with clean pressed sheets and music of ocean
waves was playing. “Oh, God. I need this.”
“Let me leave while you get on the table.”
“Too late.” Braxton dropped the robe and his briefs, stepping
out of the slippers. He lay face down on the table, his cheeks
pressed into the donut ring and his arms at his sides. “Make sure
I don’t doze off. I don’t want to miss a second of this, Kel.”
“You got it.” Kellie pulled the sheet and blanket up to
Braxton’s bottom.
The minute Braxton felt Kellie’s magical hands on him, he
moaned and got wood, closing his eyes and trying to relax, even
if it was just for an hour of indulgence.
~
Fabian sat with his laptop on his legs on his sofa, music
playing softly in the background. He hunted for a job, getting
frustrated, checked on previous applications, followed up, did all
the right things. Why was he not getting any positive feedback?
Was because he was just a temp? Did that put off employers?
Did you have to have a full-time job to get a full-time job in this economy?
His rent was high but he didn’t want to move. He had some
reserves in his savings account and the temp job was a decent
income, though obviously not a steady one.
Once he had sent his resume to every job opening in
California, and even some in Nevada, because although he didn’t
want to leave LA, he would if he had to, he began surfing the net
for non-job related items. He couldn’t resist. He put into a search engine, ‘Cancer charity auction, Los Angeles’, and today’s date.
The gala event appeared. Fabian entered the website and
choked at the two thousand do
llar a plate cost. “Holy shit!” He
shook his head on any aspiration he may have had to attend, just
to see, out of curiosity, how much a date with Mr Todd may go
for, and instead read the items up for auction.
There were three dates with Braxton Todd and he was the
only ‘human for sale’ item. The rest were donations from hotels
and spas, restaurants and theaters, shopping gift certificates and
even a trip to Hawaii.
So? How did a man with a reputation as a whore, rate as a top
auction item?
Ahh…
Fabian had answered his own question. Sex. Win a date with
handsome Mr Todd and get his ass.
“Gross.” Fabian turned up his nose. “I wouldn’t touch you
with a ten-foot pole.” He enlarged the image the site had used to
tempt bidders.
All right. The guy was handsome…fuck. Really hot.
“Jesus.” Fabian didn’t stop his snooping at the auction site, he
went on a hunting excursion. Bored. Yes, he was. He put in
Braxton Todd’s name into the search engine once again and
could not get over the number of entry hits he had. Braxton’s
business website was number one, but after that and a few
listings on directories? The smut began.
Braxton Todd, topless, in a skimpy bathing suit. The picture
was obviously candid, and probably shot by someone other than
a professional photographer. It was from a blog site about
celebrities, and under the photo was a caption that read, ‘ Yeah, I’d fuck him too.’
From that link a few dozen appeared, all with men admiring
Braxton’s fabulous form and face. Photos of Braxton in his teens
were even posted. How they showed up on the net Fabian had no
clue, but there was all the information he didn’t need to know
about the playboy of LA and his PR firm, strutting his stuff, on
the arms of male and female models, red carpet debuts with
celebrities, and even one naked photo of Braxton lying face
down on a beach in…where?
Fabian clicked the picture and the caption was in Portuguese.
He cut and pasted it on a translator site and it had been taken of
Braxton in Rio two years ago.
“Christ, look at that ass.” Fabian wondered which way
Braxton preferred his sex. He assumed a man with the ego and
power Braxton had he would be a top. But who knew? Maybe he
had no preference and liked it either way.
“Yeah, I’d fuck him too,” Fabian repeated the caption on a
previous photo.
The amount of information about the guy was bordering on
frightening. If Braxton ever got a stalker, the man would be
doomed.
Fabian put his own name into the same search engine. Only
his social web page came up and one or two business
employment sites he had posted on. He frowned and nudged the
laptop off his legs.
Why did some men have it all? And others struggle?
He leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes.
~
Coated with scented oil, Braxton could barely get off the
table when Kellie left to allow him to get dressed. He’d had a
hard-on the entire time Kellie was massaging him and needed to
get laid. He was just too tired for the head games and didn’t want
a lousy hookup in the showers.
He groaned as he rolled to sit upright, staring at his dick.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He sighed and gave it one pull, then
got off the table and slipped on only the robe, since he
needed another shower to wash off the oil. He stepped into the
slippers and held his briefs in his hand. When he was ready, a
light tap was heard at the door.
Braxton opened it and Kellie had a glass of water for him.
“Thanks.” Braxton stuffed his briefs into his robe’s pocket and
drank the cool water down thirstily.
“So…big auction tonight.” Kellie laughed.
Braxton handed him back the empty glass. “Don’t remind me.
God knows what will bid on me.” This book was downloaded
from http://www.superiorz.org
“You’re worth a ton of money, honey.” Kellie gave him a
shake of the head.
“You be careful, mister, or I’ll make you give me a happy
ending one of these days.” Braxton pointed a finger at him
playfully.
“Yeah. Monty would really like that.” Kellie swiped his
finger out of the air to tug playfully.
It was no secret Kellie was involved with a tough ex Navy
SEAL named Monty Gresham, co-owner of a crazy boot
camp/posh training club that no one in their right mind would
join.
“Say hi to your big guy for me.” Braxton started heading
back to the men’s locker.
“You got it. Have fun tonight.”
Braxton waved at Kellie without looking back and now not
only was he tired and needed a nap, he was uneasy at how the
evening would progress.
After washing the oil off his skin, Braxton actually felt a little
better, more revived. He dressed in his slacks and cotton shirt
and packed everything else into a gym bag. He slung it over his
shoulder and headed out, glancing at the juice bar, craving good
food, but needing to get home and get ready for the big night
ahead.
On his walk to his car in the parking lot, he turned on his
phone and it beeped and vibrated non-stop with messages and
missed calls. He looked up at the blue sky helplessly and tried to
focus. One thing at a time. He tossed his gym bag onto the
passenger’s side, stuck his Bluetooth into his ear and started the
car.
“Hey,” he began his call backs. “What’s up?”
“My dress isn’t here yet! Braxton! The red carpet premiere is
in two hours!”
“Okay. Calm down. Let me find out where it is. Okay?”
“Call me back right away!”
Braxton disconnected the call and as he drove out of the
parking lot he told his mobile computer to dial the dress
designer.
“Braxton!”
“Hey, babe. Julie wants to know where her dress is. She’s
having a freak out.” He pulled onto the main street and was glad
it was Saturday. A break in the mad weekday rush hour traffic.
“It’s on its way.”
“Thank you.”
“Have fun tonight, dahhling!”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” He disconnected the call, shook his
head at the folly, and redialed his frantic star.
~
Wearing just a pair of black gym shorts, Fabian went for a
long run along the beach. There were brave surfers wearing
wetsuits, out on the waves and a few families with children
playing on the beach, even though it was not warm enough to
swim, and very windy.
He liked jogging on the sand, since it was tougher than the
treadmill and street, but it exhausted him quickly. Fabian made
his way back to his car after running for an hour, and stood still
near where he’d parked, looking back at the beautiful white sand
and clear sky. Why was he thinking about going to that auction?
Two grand? Two grand to sit and
eat dinner, alone?
He wondered which of his friends had enough disposable
income to join him. He could say he wanted to support the
charity, or even make a joke about wanting to see Braxton get
auctioned off. But that would make too big a dent in his bank
account.
Hands on his hips, still catching his breath, the wind drying
his perspiration quickly, Fabian took his key out of the tiny
pocket inside the shorts waistband and unlocked his car. He sat
down on the seat and removed his phone out of the glove box to
turn on. He noticed a text from his friend Naomi. He
immediately dialed her number and slouched low in the seat, still
recuperating from his run. He turned on the car and opened all
the windows to help him cool down.
“Fabian!”
“Hello, doll.” He smiled. “What are you up to?”
“Errands. You know how weekends go. It’s a game of catch
up for everything I can’t get done during the week.”
Naomi Gamble, one of the women he used to work with at his
old office before they went under. They had stayed in touch ever
since, and often connected for dinner and movies.
“I do. I’m bored out of my mind. You free for dinner?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“A two grand a plate charity event?”
Silence hit the other end of the line, then she laughed loudly.
“A what? Oh, sure. I’ll just put that on my credit card.”
“I know. I’m joking. I can’t afford it either.” He watched the
pedestrian traffic walking along the pavement next to the sandy
beach.
“Sorry, Fabian. I just can’t afford that.”
“I know. You want to grab a pizza or something?”
Hearing her laughter made Fabian feel better.
“Now, that I can afford!”
“Great. Pick the time and place.” He sat up and began to
imagine a nice evening.
“Seven o’clock, that little Italian place in WeHo?”
“Got it. Can’t wait to see you.”
“You too!”
Fabian smiled, disconnected the call and headed home.
~
Braxton stood in front of his full length mirror in a tuxedo.
He fussed with the bowtie and collar, feeling impatient and
wishing tonight was over.
His phone kept buzzing with calls and text messages and he
was about to scream in frustration at never having a break.
Yes, Brianna offered to help, but she was a young mother
with a husband and he couldn’t ask her to work over the