Braxton’s drink was brought over quickly along with
appetizers that were obviously ordered by Mr Persely prior to his
arrival.
“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.
“Yes,” Drew said curtly, and looked at the menu.
Oh fuck you. Braxton picked his up to check out quickly.
“The sirloin, rare, the baked potato…”
Braxton scanned the menu and when his turn came he asked,
“May I have the crab cakes, please? Mixed green salad, and
garlic vinaigrette.” Since I ain’t kissing anyone. He handed the waiter the menu and picked up his drink.
Once the waiter left, Drew began eating the bacon wrapped
scallop appetizer. Not offering one to Braxton, and Braxton was
beginning to think they wouldn’t even exchange conversation if
this prick kept up the attitude.
After a gulp of scotch Braxton tried to be civil, if for no other
reason, to pass the time. “So…”
Drew looked up, his cheeks full.
“You’re the top dog at the car company?”
“I am.” Drew used his napkin to wipe his mouth and hands.
“You decide on the Richfield campaign?”
“I did. Our sales skyrocketed after the new ads hit. We
wanted a younger demographic. We got it.”
“You got it all right. Your ad was the most controversial to
hit LA since Mark came on the scene for Dangereux.”
Drew smirked, as if he liked where the conversation was
headed. He sipped his martini, then refilled it from a chilled
canister on the table.
“Smart move. How did you acquire him?”
“Money.” Drew’s eyes gleamed and his jowls deepened.
“There is that. I bet he cost a bundle.”
“He did. But he’s worth every penny.”
“What’s he like?” Braxton leaned his elbow on the table.
“He’s fine until you want him act sexy. Then he cops an
attitude.” Drew rolled his eyes as if Mark not wanting to act
naughty were absurd.
“How’d you get his dick erect for the ad? I have to know.”
Braxton lowered his voice seductively. “My fantasy says you
used a fluffer.”
The scowl was gone and an amused expression appeared on
the older man’s face. “We got the job done. I’m not giving away
our secrets.”
“Damn. I heard he was big, but…” Braxton shook his head
and drank more booze. A foot contacted his under the table. He
imagined it was accidental so he moved his leg back to avoid it.
“Wait ‘til you see our summer ad campaign. We have him in
a thong straddling the hood ornament.”
“Damn!” Braxton cracked up. “No way that erect dick will
hide in one of those…hang on, isn’t he like forty?”
“Shh. He wants his publicity to read thirty.”
“Christ, I’d do him.” Braxton glanced around the area. It was
filled with well-dressed patrons.
“Don’t know anyone who wouldn’t.”
Braxton noticed the wedding ring on Drew’s finger. “Um.
Are you gay?”
“Me?” Drew shook his head and ate another scallop. “No.
Married. Kids, grandkids…”
That foot made its way to Braxton’s shoe again. This time he
peeked down under the table. The position had to be intentional.
Drew was literally reaching under cover to make contact.
“Always wondered what it would be like to have a man suck
my cock.”
Braxton coughed on his scotch and set the glass down as he
covered his mouth to choke in shock.
Drew didn’t even react, eating the rest of the scallops and
sipping his drink.
After wiping his mouth on his cloth napkin and controlling
his coughing fit, Braxton glanced around. The acoustics were so
bad, no one could overhear them. At least he hoped not.
“What’s it like?”
“Huh?” Braxton shot the rest of his scotch down his throat.
“Having a man suck your dick? You date both, right? Men
and women?”
“I…uh…” Braxton loosened his collar and tie. “I…well…”
“Men are better, right? I already assume that.”
“Uh…” Braxton felt his skin go hot and removed his suit
jacket to drape over the chair. A waiter came over, refilled
Drew’s water glass and asked Braxton, “Another round?”
He could get wasted, call Scott and leave his car. “No. I’m
okay.” He didn’t want to be drunk. Not with a man like Drew to
deal with.
After the waiter left, and Drew ordered another martini, he
asked Braxton, “You know of anyone who would?”
“Huh? Who would?”
“You know. Give me a blowjob.”
“Didn’t you say you were married? With grandkids?”
Drew shrugged. “My wife is nearly seventy. You think she’s
going to suck my dick like she did when we met forty years
ago?”
“I…uh…” Braxton wanted to die. “So, what new car line do
you have coming out? Any coupe models that are sporty enough
to rival my Porsche?”
“Come on, Braxton. You must know a young man who would
do it.”
Braxton met Drew’s eyes and shivered in disgust. “No. I
don’t.”
Drew leaned closer, over the condiments and asked softly,
“Will you?”
“Will I…?” Braxton stifled a wince.
“Suck me? You know. So I can see how a man does it.”
The waiter set down their salads and said, “Here you go,
gentlemen. I’ll be right back with your fresh martini, Mr
Persely.”
“Thank you.” Drew adjusted his plate as the waiter took the
empty appetizer one away.
Braxton stared at his salad and felt slightly nauseated. “Uh
no. I won’t.”
“Five grand? Are you kidding me?” Drew’s sneer returned.
“Look, I’m a dinner date, not a hooker.”
“That’s not what I heard, or was told.”
“Told? By whom?” Braxton didn’t even pick up his fork as
Drew dove into the tomato, basil and mozzarella appetizer in
front of him.
The silver haired older man met Braxton’s gaze and it was
more a glare than a stare.
Braxton said, “You believe that media shit? You think I’m
some two-bit whore who sucks and fucks everyone?” Braxton
began to fume. He was like that ten years ago, not anymore.
Drew shrugged indifferently. “You were up for auction. And
you were pricy. I assumed—”
“You assumed wrong!” Braxton threw his napkin on the
table.
“Hang on.” Drew held out his hand.
Braxton was breathing fire and tried to stay put when
everything in him wanted to go.
“Eat.” Drew pointed at Braxton’s salad with his fork,
chewing as he spoke.
Braxton ran his hand through his hair and couldn’t imagine
eating. He stared at his plate and knew how much work he could
be doing at the moment, at home, on his computer.
“I did win a dinner with you.”
Braxton picked up his fork and took a bite of the food, so
angry he imagined pushing the table clear of plates and hearing
&n
bsp; them crash on the floor.
“Do you know how men do it?”
“Do what?” Braxton became exasperated.
“Find young men to suck them?”
“I don’t know. Craigslist? Why are you asking me?”
Drew didn’t speak from then on, eating his meal and getting
drunk on martinis in silence.
~
Fabian finished his workout, showered and ate a light dinner
he cooked for himself of grilled fish and steamed vegetables.
Once he was done, he relaxed with his laptop and…worked. He
had access to the office computer information and loaded it to his
own, using the data files to continue to help clients, make phone
calls and loved every minute of it.
The phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, Fabian
called a caterer as he checked out the website. “Hello, I’m
Fabian Rhys and I work for Braxton Todd.”
“Hello, Fabian. What can I do for you?”
“I want a quote for a large party for a grand opening of a new
talent agency in Burbank. A hundred on the guest list, open bar,
and fully staffed.”
“Let me get my books to give you menu choices. Hang on.”
man on the phone did the same.
He thought of Braxton and imagined a date with him. What
was he doing right now with the man who owned one of the
largest luxury car companies on the west coast? Wheeling and
dealing? Or…?
“I got a quote for you, Fabian.”
“I’m ready.” Fabian was also ready to offer half of what he
was told. He wanted to make Braxton proud of him. And he
would.
~
By the time Braxton got home he felt covered in slime. He
shivered, undressing as he came through the door, taking off his
suit jacket and tossing it on his bed. He stripped and headed to
the shower. Under the hot spray, he closed his eyes and scalded
the feeling of revulsion off his skin.
Who do I know to get to suck your cock?
Will I?
You repulsive freak!
“Fucking married grandfather! You look like a goddamn right
wing conservative who votes against gay marriage and women’s
rights!” Braxton shouted, his voice echoing on the wet walls.
His blood pressure felt as if he were about to get a stroke. He
leaned both hands on the wall and tried to calm down, but since
he had to drive, he didn’t drink more than one drink. He wanted
to get inebriated. Sitting with that prick had been intolerable.
After the talk of cock sucking, Drew had refused to speak
another line. Braxton imagined he’d demand his money back
from the charity because, well, he didn’t get his money’s worth,
did he?
Braxton actually screamed. He balled his fists and covered
his face. “I’m not a fucking whore! For fuck’s sake!”
Slowly forcing himself to calm down. Braxton shut the water,
stood dripping, and stared at his limp cock. You did this to
yourself, Braxton. How? Huh? All your past marauding is
coming back to haunt you. Happy now?
He took a towel from the rack and wiped his face and hair.
What he really wanted? Really? Was a man. One man. A
husband. A lifetime companion. But he was so picky and grew
frustrated so easily, he’d never find his perfect match.
At thirty-three he had dated so many men, so many
women…and still? Single. No one he’d even call back for
another date.
He stepped out of the shower stall, dried off and caught his
hazel eyes in the mirror. He snarled at his reflection, hating
where his life had taken him. Just when his career had gone up,
his love life died. And he didn’t want just a fuck. Not anymore.
Look where that lifestyle led him.
A charity dinner? And people think he’s a trick?
“What have you done?” Braxton stared at himself in disgust.
He shook his head and left the bathroom, knowing how much
work was waiting for him even after two hours of dining out. He
slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and booted up the
computer in his spare bedroom, which he had made into a home
office. When he didn’t find any unanswered emails he panicked
that his server may be down. He began opening the emails to
see…they had been answered. By Fabian.
One by one Braxton checked on the queries, the results, and
the fees Fabian had agreed to. Fabian was a top notch negotiator.
Braxton read all the back and forth conversations between the
contacts.
He was so relieved he didn’t have to work all night, his eyes
burned with tears. “I love you, you gorgeous fuck. I love you.”
Other than Brianna, Braxton had never had an employee to
lighten the load off his shoulders. So many had to be watched,
tracked, scrutinized, since he worked with high profile
celebrities. Had Brianna checked Fabian’s references? You
better believe she had. That woman rivaled the FBI when it came
to digging dirt. If Fabian had a flaw, she would find it.
Braxton typed him a direct email. Two simple words. ‘ Thank
you.’
He hit send and slouched on the chair, wiping his eyes he was
so happy he didn’t have hours of playing catch up. An email
returned.
‘ You’re very welcome.’
Braxton kept dabbing at his eyes, feeling like a blubbering
baby, but the pressure he was under was too much, and after an
The urge to self medicate with alcohol was strong. Instead,
Braxton sent a Skype invite to Fabian, and it was accepted
instantly. He could see the handsome man online sitting with his
computer on his lap and smiled at him through his tears. “You
have no idea how grateful I am.”
“Just doin’ my job.” Fabian’s smile was gorgeous.
“No, you are doing my job, and after the night I had…”
Braxton ran his hand through his damp hair.
“Yeah? The date a disaster?”
“The guy was a creep. Total gross out.”
“Really? Drew Persely from the car manufacturer? Are you
kidding me?”
“No. He kept asking me how it felt to have a guy suck your
dick, then he asked me to suck his.” Braxton cringed.
“Oh fuck!” Fabian laughed but not in a condescending way.
“Yeah. Right? The guy looks like a total right wing
conservative.”
“Probably is. They’re the worst kind.”
Braxton stared at Fabian, could see his gray T-shirt with a
college logo on it and his fine features. “I don’t mean to bother
you. I just wanted to tell you how grateful I was to not come
home to a huge backlog after that ordeal.”
“I assume that’s why I was hired.”
“But…but you did so well. I can’t believe the deals you got.
Seriously, Fabian, I couldn’t have done better myself.”
“Wow. From you, that’s high praise.”
Braxton’s smile faded. “Am I a prick?”
Fabian appeared surprised. “Did I imply that? I’m sorry.”
“No! Am I?”
“Not to me. Not yet.”
“I’m just wired at a high frequency, ya know?” Braxton
wanted Fabian to like him.
“I get it. I suppose I am too. A-types.”
“Yes! That’s what Brianna calls me. I am. I’m so damn
demanding, I do everything myself, or…I get rid of people who
can’t work to my expectations.”
“I get it. I do.”
“Fabian?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“You, in one day, have already exceeded my expectations.”
“Don’t say that. I’ll start slacking off and texting at work.”
Braxton laughed, loving Fabian’s smile. “If you keep up the
way you are, I’ll promote you to partner.”
“Partner!” Fabian’s smile broadened. “Like that! A lot!”
I want to fuck you right now! Before he ruined the sweetness of the conversation, Braxton said, “Well, I’ll let you go. Thanks,
Fabian.”
“See you tomorrow, boss.”
“Yes. See you tomorrow.”
Fabian’s picture vanished but the craving to touch him didn’t.
Chapter 8
Fabian used his new parking card to enter the lot. Smiling, happy
to be here and hoping for a long career—finally, after too many
unsuccessful job interviews—he parked beside Brianna’s sedan
and didn’t see Braxton’s Porsche yet. Taking his jacket from the
passenger’s seat, he put it on as he walked to the elevator,
reading a text he just got from Naomi.
‘ survive Braxton the wolf? ’
Fabian smiled and texted back, ‘ yeah. so far haven’t been
bitten. ’
‘ If he does bite, you tell him he’ll have to deal with me! ’
‘ love you. ’ Fabian laughed as he texted back, entering the elevator. He pocketed his phone and pushed the button for his
floor, wondering what being ‘bitten’ by Braxton would be like.
Okay, he was fantasizing about him. So what? That didn’t
mean they would ever actually touch.
When he came through the door to the office, Brianna had the
tray of coffee waiting and greeted him with a big smile. “So?
The lattes okay or do you want something special, like tall,
skinny, or mint with whipping cream?”
He laughed and picked up the cup with his name written on
the top in marker. “This is perfect. And you don’t have to do it.
The coffee from the machine here in the office isn’t bad.”
“It’s a tradition. I always stop on my way here.”
“Thank you.” He held up the cup in a toast and as he walked