Continuum of Longing

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Continuum of Longing ISBN # 1-4199-0647-X ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Continuum of Longing Copyright© 2006 Claire Thompson Edited by Mary Moran. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: June 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

CONTINUUM OF LONGING

Claire Thompson

Claire Thompson

Chapter One “Any questions?” James Sutherland looked around at the circle of men who made up the loan committee of the small, independent bank. It was clear they were impressed with his presentation of the loan proposal for Stafford & Gray, a new and very hot construction company in town. His presentation had been thorough, creative and assured. He waited as no one spoke for a moment, some of them scanning the spreadsheets he had provided, some helping themselves to the sweet rolls and coffee James’ secretary had placed on the long, shiny boardroom table early that morning. John Hunter, the president of the bank, cleared his throat and said, “James. I have one question, if you don’t mind.” James felt a little clutch in his belly and hoped the fear that swept through his innards wasn’t reflected on his face. “It’s about the payout term. Do you think three years is too long?” James let out a little breath and smiled, his demeanor again confident and calm. He explained why that particular term made the most sense for the company, careful not to appear condescending to his boss, since in his mind the answer was obvious. Hunter nodded, apparently satisfied. He turned toward the other members and said, “Well then, I think this is a pretty clear slam dunk. All those in favor?” All the men raised their hands. “Any opposed?” he added unnecessarily. Turning toward James he smiled. “This should bring in a very nice chunk of change for Valley Federal. Nice going, Jim. This is a well put-together deal.” James winced slightly—he hated being called Jim—but managed to smile as he accepted Hunter’s offered handshake. As the men filed out of the room, James permitted himself a small self-satisfied smile. He’d pulled it off without a hitch. This deal would be profitable for the bank, he 4

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was sure of it. If the risk was in fact a little greater than he’d led the committee to believe, well, in order to get a good payback, one had to take a few risks.

***** Tom Goodwin glanced out his open office door as James came out of the boardroom. James looked terrific as always, his wavy golden blond hair falling a little into his dark blue eyes, making him look younger than his thirty-one years. James and Tom were both senior loan officers at Valley Federal. James was a senior vice president, having spent his entire ten-year banking career with Valley Federal and rising steadily through the ranks. Tom, only three years out of graduate school, had just been made a vice president. The two men often worked together on loans to mid-sized companies in the area. Today Tom observed James was wearing a suit of soft charcoal gray, no doubt chosen for the sedate, stuffy little bank for which they both worked, but still beautifully cut to show off his broad shoulders and long, lean legs. He was tall—taller than Tom, with the natural grace of an athlete. Tom suppressed a little sigh. As far as he knew, James was straight as an arrow. Yet there had been a few times, especially once at an office party, when the liquor had been flowing a little too freely and Tom had gotten a strange vibe from James—something almost sexual, something that gave him hours of fodder for fantasy… They had been sitting side by side, watching some of their coworkers dancing on the dance floor of the club the bank had secured for an evening of Christmas revelry. One couple seemed oblivious of those around them, gyrating and moving against one another as if they were making love standing and fully clothed. Tom of course, was drawn to the man’s erotic movements, his firm ass and thighs clearly outlined in black denim, his upper body strong and graceful as he undulated to the hypnotic rhythms of the music.

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“That’s Mary from loan processing, isn’t it? It’s amazing how different people can act when they’ve had a few drinks!” Tom looked from the man to the young woman in red silk and high heels. “She’s the quiet, mousy type at work. But look at her, practically fucking that guy on the dance floor. You just never really know about people,” James had observed. They were sitting at a small table so close Tom could smell James’ cologne, something subtle and slightly spicy. “You never know,” Tom echoed, wondering how James would react if he knew Tom was gay and not a little in love with him. “Sometimes you know more than people think,” James had responded softly, looking suddenly into Tom’s face. James had shifted slightly so their thighs were touching. Tom thought he read desire in the other man’s expression and this confused him as much as it aroused him. He felt his cock engorge as he stared helplessly back into James’ handsome, angular face. He was the one to turn away, pushing back his chair and crossing his legs to hide any evidence of his arousal. Though nothing further had happened between them, in his daydreams Tom had pushed off from that point, his fantasy lover whispering they should leave the party and go back to his place. There Tom would seduce the virgin but eager James. He would command James to strip, and James would obey, standing naked, his beautiful cock erect above heavy balls, his hands on his elegant, tapered hips as he waited for Tom to come to him. Tom would strip as well, moving to embrace the tall man, feeling James’ arms come around him as he lifted his face for that first kiss. Their tongues would meet, their lips pressing together as they feverishly explored each other’s mouths. Their cocks would press against one another, soft, hot flesh over rock-hard erections. They would sink together to the floor, James falling back as Tom knelt over him, taking his cock deep into his throat, drawing a guttural moan from his lover. He would introduce James to the fierce, delicious pleasure one man could give another, first drawing his seed lovingly from him and then teaching him to do the same. They would

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shower together, soaping each other’s strong, hard bodies, kissing under the hot spray of water. Finally, once he was sure James was ready, he would claim him anally, gently pressing his hard, thick cock into James’ virgin entrance, promising to be gentle, giving James all the time he needed to relax, to open himself to his lover’s demands… “Goodwin. Snap out of it!” James stuck his head into Tom’s office. “We got ourselves a deal. Just as we structured it. They didn’t change a thing.” Tom sat up, pulling himself closer to his desk to hide the erection he felt bulging at his groin. Focusing on James’ words, he said, “Really? It passed? Even with the shaky asset to debt ratio? I would have thought—” “That’s why I’m a senior VP and you’re just a veep,” James cut him off. “I know how to get things done.” He grinned, his tone softening. “I really appreciate all your help too, Tom, with the analysis and number crunching. Now we get to call the customer and break the good news. Wanna join me?” Tom pushed a button on his keyboard to minimize his work and followed James into his office. He was frankly surprised the stodgy loan committee had gone for the deal as structured. There was more risk there than they were usually comfortable taking—at least that’s what he had thought and what he had warned James about. As he sat in front of James’ large, rather cluttered desk, James punched in the number for the new customer. He put it on speakerphone so Tom could share in the conversation. As he listened to James explaining to the clients what needed to be done next, Tom’s eyes roamed over the piles of papers on his desk. On one corner he saw a bound notebook with the words Revised Appraisal—S&G typed across the top. He wondered what that could be, trying to recall any revisions. In fact, it was the low value of the collateral being offered to secure the loan that had been their sticking point. The property and assets of the startup company, while worth something, were not really enough to substantiate a loan of the magnitude they had asked for and at such a low rate. However James had been adamant about the 7

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inherent value of the firm, especially the goodwill of the partners, two of the biggest players in the industry who had recently left much larger firms to go independent. “You and I know what a good company it is, James,” Tom had said. Tom had an MBA from a prestigious university and was more prone to focus on the numbers, which was also the inclination of the loan committee. “But you can’t liquidate goodwill or good connections in the industry when the customer defaults. We need to show a better ratio or demand a higher rate. It’s pretty basic.” “You’re thinking inside the box,” James had chided him. “Every bank in town is courting these guys. The cash flow and deposits they’ll bring with their contractors will more than make up for a few points of interest. Just because the old fogies preach the three Cs of banking—” “Collateral, collateral and collateral,” Tom had laughed. “Exactly. Just because they’re mired in the old ways of doing things, doesn’t mean this isn’t worth the risk. If we structure it properly, I’m sure they’ll go for it.” And so they had apparently. Tom wished he had been in the room during the proposal but James had insisted on going in alone. “I want to keep it low-key, Tom. Just me and the boys talking over a simple slam dunk. If you’re in there, it’ll make it seem like more of a big deal. Just trust me on this, okay? I know these old guys. I know how to work ‘em.” As senior vice president, James could pull rank with Tom, though he rarely did. Tom had thought it was a little odd he wanted to go in alone as Tom could provide backup if James couldn’t answer a question on some of the details. Though James had been primarily responsible for the loan structure, Tom had done the core analysis to support the deal. James concluded the phone conversation after arranging for Mr. Stafford and Mr. Gray to come in to sign the loan and get their money later that afternoon. Tom glanced again at the revised appraisal wondering if he should ask James about it. James seemed to notice his glance because all at once he pushed a stack of papers onto the appraisal

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and stood, saying, “I sure could use a cup of coffee! How about you? Let’s go over to the café and have a celebratory espresso!” Tom wondered at this as James rarely took a break, even to grab a cup of the bitter, lukewarm brew that graced their own little break room. He followed James out of the office, glancing back at the mysterious document now hidden under piles of paper. When Tom returned to his desk after their brief coffee break he received his second clue. While they were putting the deal together, the accountant for the construction company had sent a substantial amount of the supporting data the bank needed to document the loan via email. The emails were generally addressed to James while Tom, as James’ assistant on the deal, was copied. Settling in at his computer, Tom clicked on his email. Opening the one from S&G, he read, “Glad to hear the adjustments in appraisal report did the trick. Sometimes a little creative accounting goes a long way! JK.” John Knowles was the accountant for S&G. Tom leaned back in his chair, wondering about the reference to creative accounting. Accountants are paid not to be creative, he thought, narrowing his eyes and stroking his chin. Just what had James been up to? Suddenly his insistence he do the presentation alone, as well as his guilty behavior when Tom had seen the revised appraisal, made sense. A sickening sense of unease settled over him. What had James done? John Hunter stopped by Tom’s office to congratulate him on his hard work. “Though Jim may have grabbed all the glory in committee, I know you were very much a part of putting this whole deal together. Good work, Tom.” Tom was pleased at his praise, though worry over what James might have done to get the deal passed made him unable to fully revel in his boss’s compliment. James stuck his head into Tom’s office at six o’clock. “Hey, Goodwin. I’m knocking off for the day. How ‘bout you? You sticking around?” “I’m right behind you, Sutherland,” he answered. “Congratulations again on the S&G deal.” 9

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Was it his imagination or did a faint shadow of worry flit across James’ face? A moment later it was gone, replaced by his brilliant smile, white teeth against tan skin. “Say,” James said in a casual tone, “Did you get an email from John Knowles today? He might have sent you something by accident, he said…” He waited, his dark blue eyes boring holes into Tom’s. “Let me see,” Tom pretended to ponder. “Uh, nope. No emails from John. Not today. I imagine he’s pretty sick of me. I made him account for every penny spent since inception. Probably deleted me from his email address book the second the deal was signed!” James laughed a little. “Well. Okay then. I just said I’d check for him. I didn’t get anything either.” Tom watched him, waiting to see what lies he would add but he just said, “Well, goodnight then. Have a good weekend.” Tom waited until he was sure James was gone. Moving through the empty hall, he entered James’ office, shutting the door softly behind him. As he’d expected, the revised appraisal was nowhere to be seen on James’ desk. That confirmed his suspicions as the rest of the desk was still a cluttered mess of papers, folders and binders. Tom had worked with James long enough to know where he stashed things. Sure enough, in the credenza behind the desk, beneath a stack of old financial statements and old bank records, he found it. The revised appraisal was in fact adjusted to get the asset to debt ratio to an acceptable level. The only thing different from the original appraisal was the value placed on the assets, deliberately adjusted to get to a higher comfort level. “Jesus, James, what did you do?” Tom breathed softly. The accountant, with or without the knowledge of his bosses, had deliberately doctored the numbers and James had obviously known about it. He had probably used these inflated numbers in the loan presentation in lieu of the real numbers Tom had so carefully prepared. Now they had a loan on their hands made under fraudulent conditions! And Tom was as much a part of the deal as James. If this came to light, his reputation would be 10

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just as tarnished. Perhaps they would even lose their jobs over it! How dare James put him in this situation? Tom sat in his own office a while, pondering what he should do. He had taken the offending binder with him. It sat on his lap as he stared out into the dark night. He was as certain as James the company would in fact perform at or above expectations. He understood James’ motivation too, as their bank lagged behind the times. The old men who ran it were costing the bank its competitive edge as they shied away from anything but the safest deals on the market. New banks with higher risk tolerance were steadily eating away at Valley Federal’s market share and profits. Still, what James had done was wrong. Now he, Tom, had something on the guy. Imagine what he could do with the knowledge. Suddenly it was as if a little red devil was perched on his shoulder, whispering to him. What would James be willing to do to keep Tom quiet? He knew it was wrong to capitalize on James’ “mistake”, twisting it for his own gain, sexual or otherwise. Wouldn’t he be as bad as James if he used the knowledge to blackmail the man of his dreams? He took a deep breath and stood. He knew he would have to do something or the situation would eat away at him forever. He looked at his watch. It was only seven o’clock. He would go to James’ house and confront him. He would demand an explanation. He would hint of his willingness to be discreet…if… If what? He honestly didn’t know if the devil or the angel metaphorically perched on either shoulder would win out. He’d play it by ear.

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Chapter Two James had no appetite. He took a long drink of his second glass of wine, his fingers drumming the black lacquered dining room table. He had changed from his suit into a soft cotton T-shirt and comfortable jeans. “Shit,” he said softly. Goodwin suspected. He was fairly certain of it. He hadn’t come out and confronted James, but James knew Goodwin was a man of complete integrity. If he suspected any creative accounting, he’d want to know what was going on. Yet he hadn’t said anything. Yet. It wasn’t as if James didn’t have full confidence in the construction company—he did. But he also knew what he had structured was more in line with a venture capitalist. He worked for a bank, a conservative bank, and as such he should have remained within the loan guidelines set forth by the board. Yet he knew the deal would work! Still, now he had done something that well might compromise his career. If Hunter found out, he could lose his job, his reputation or at the very least his dignity. Damn! Why had he let that fool accountant whisper his poison into his ear? James sighed. He knew he couldn’t blame the accountant. He’d gone along with his nefarious ideas, so eager to get the deal done he’d been willing to quell his own reservations. Now he had a secret and he’d have it forever. Please God, let him be right about the company… James thought over his life these days. He’d recently broken up with the latest girl in a series of failed relationships. He liked the women he dated well enough, but at the age of thirty-one, he’d still never been in love. Not in the wholehearted, utterly captivated way he thought one should be. He would date for a while, grow bored, stay in the relationship too long for fear of hurting the woman’s feelings and finally get out, feeling like a failure and fool.

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Why couldn’t he meet a woman who was easy to be with? Someone like Tom. James smiled ruefully at himself. That night at the Christmas party had really shaken him up as he recalled it later. He had been drunk, true, but when their thighs had touched, something almost electric had seemed to jolt right through his groin. Tom was so good-looking—for a guy—with straight dark hair and rich brown eyes. He wasn’t a large man, shorter by several inches than James, with a wiry, lean frame and a way of moving like a panther, walking slung low from the hips, a certain feline elegance to his movements. He reminded James of Johnny Depp—he shared a certain smoldering mystery in his dark eyes. Though James would barely admit it—even to himself—sometimes his most secret sexual fantasies involved another man. Actually, if he were honest, they involved Tom specifically. When he was masturbating and near release, he found his inhibitions falling away, allowing him to fantasize about things he never did when more in control of his deepest feelings. Sometimes at this vulnerable time James would imagine Tom— or someone very like Tom—kneeling naked at his feet, James’ cock lovingly wrapped in his velvet mouth, his lips gliding up the hard shaft as their eyes met… James was secretly ashamed of these fantasies, thinking they marked him as a pervert. Not that being gay was a perversion, he would tell himself. But for a straight guy to think this way—that was too weird for James Sutherland. James had wondered about Tom’s sexual orientation but had never brought it up. They were business associates—colleagues. Though they were friendly and shared a good rapport and mutual respect, neither one had been especially forthcoming about their private lives. James had learned and perhaps Tom had as well, it was best to keep one’s private life private out of the workplace. Made things simpler—cleaner. Tom dressed beautifully, his suits cut as if made especially for him, his shirts starched, real cufflinks at his slender wrists. James knew he wasn’t married and he’d never mentioned a significant other. Well, James told himself, that didn’t make him gay!

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And even if he were, what did it matter to James? He was heterosexual, having dated women since he was sixteen with nary a glance at another man—except in his fantasies. Again the image of Tom next to him at the Christmas party floated into his mind, their thighs touching, Tom turning to him, a moment’s naked yearning on his face. Had he only imagined that look of longing? For a moment later Tom’s expression was closed off and he was again just Goodwin, James’ pal from the bank. His pal from the bank whose back he’d gone behind, involving himself and by default Tom as well in what, if it came to light, could only be called fraud. What was the matter with him? He was a failure at love and now he’d compromised the one thing in his life at which he was truly a success—his banking career. James was startled by the sound of the doorbell. He tried to recall if he had been expecting anyone. He stood and moved to look through the peephole of his large oak front door. Tom Goodwin! Shit, he had been right. Now here came the righteous Goodwin to demand an explanation. Or not? Maybe he was just stopping by for a friendly visit. Yeah, right. Refusing to allow himself to consider the matter further, James pulled the door open and forced a smile. “Hey, Goodwin. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He knew his voice sounded strident, over-bright, but he plunged on. “Did you miss me? Nine hours at the office not enough for you?” “Hi, James. Can I come in?” Tom didn’t smile, his dark brown eyes fixed on James’ face. As he moved over the sill James saw the revised appraisal in his hands and he felt the blood in his veins run cold. “Oh. Sure.” James stepped back as Tom entered. He’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, the top two buttons of his starched shirt opened to reveal a hint of smooth, masculine muscle. Wordlessly Tom held out the binder. James looked at it at moment. “You know,” he said softly.

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Tom nodded. He allowed James to take it from his hands. James sighed. He set the offending binder on the little table in the foyer and turned toward Tom. “Tom, if you’ll let me explain. Listen, can I get you a beer or a glass of wine or something?” “Sure. A beer would be good. Thanks. This is a very nice place you have, by the way.” He looked around the living room with its leather couch and matching chairs, the Oriental carpet on the polished wood floor, the Steinway upright piano in one corner. “You play?” “Oh,” James said, following Tom’s gaze. “Yes. Not well, but for fun. My dad was a great musician. I didn’t inherit his talent unfortunately, but I did inherit his piano.” James moved to the kitchen, getting Tom a beer, his mind blank, his feelings numb. He wondered if this was how one felt before an execution—the ax was about to fall and there was nothing he could do about it.

Tom sat on the couch, admiring the room. James owned his own home and had decorated it in an understated but elegant fashion with cream-colored leather furniture and fine art tastefully hung on the walls. The room was softly lit with muted lighting along the edges of the ceiling. Tom was suitably impressed. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear this was the house of a gay man. Stop it, he chided himself. Don’t be stereotypical. He took a breath, wondering if this had been the right decision. Now it was out there—James knew he knew. Tom still wasn’t sure how to play it. While a part of him fantasized about using his knowledge to force sexual favors, he knew in the end such a course would be disastrous, not to mention unethical. He sighed. James came into the room carrying two bottles of beer. He handed one to Tom and sat down next to him on the couch. Tom had expected him to sit on one of the chairs across from him. James took a long drink from his beer bottle and sat back. “So. You got me. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to go to you with this but I was frankly afraid to. I knew you’d object. I wanted this deal so bad.” He sat 15

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forward, his expression earnest. “This could be the clincher, Tom. This deal will put me in line for president of the bank when Hunter retires. Which he plans to do in three years.” He sat back again, shaking his head. “Imagine—thirty-four and head of a bank! I could take that place into the twenty-first century. The board members are going to run it into the ground before I get there at the rate they’re going. They don’t understand the new cutthroat environment out there. They sit in their cushy offices and think things are still like they were in the good old days. I knew I couldn’t get this deal through with the numbers we had. I had to do something.” “You didn’t have to commit fraud, James. Now you’ve compromised the loan, the bank, yourself and me. I’m as much a part of this loan deal as you are. Did you consider that?” James looked stricken. He turned toward Tom, his expression beseeching. Tom’s impulse was to gather him in his arms and whisper it was okay, it would be all right. James said quietly, “I know it was wrong. I wanted it too much. If you feel you have to go to Hunter with what you know, I’ll take the full weight. I’ll tell him the truth—that you had nothing to do with it.” Tom was quiet. He knew as James said this it would probably be the right thing to do. They should both go to Mr. Hunter, admit what had transpired and offer to restructure the deal based on the facts. “Do Stafford and Gray know about this?” Tom asked. “I honestly don’t know. I received the impression from Knowles he would handle everything on his end. That he was the numbers guy and they left it all to him. They trust him implicitly and didn’t want to know any details. They just wanted results. He obviously got them results.” James let his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Jesus. I’ve really fucked this up. I’m sorry.” Tom drank his beer and set it down on the low glass coffee table in front of him. “Listen, James. The best thing to do is probably to go to Hunter, at least from an ethical 16

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standpoint. But if we do that, you and I both know the deal is dead. Not to mention your career and possibly mine.” Hope lit James’ features as he sat up and turned toward Tom. “Oh. Thank God, you’re saying that! You are so right. Come on, man. You know how good their business is. We stand to make a sound profit on this deal. And they’ve promised to throw a lot more business our way. I know it was stupid, but really it’s just a theoretical thing— they aren’t going to have to liquidate any collateral. It’s just academic.” “Oh come on, James. You know better than that. No business is impervious. What if this Knowles character is cheating his bosses along with helping you fudge numbers? One high-level employee embezzling can be enough to run a company into the ground. Even one as good as S and G.” James ran his hands through his hair and said miserably, “What are you going to do, Tom? I put myself in your hands. I’ll handle it whatever way you think we should.” Tom looked at him, so handsome in his sexy jeans, his well-muscled thighs straining against the soft denim. His hair was ruffled from his fingers, his expression forlorn. It was all Tom could do not to gently push that hair back from his forehead, to take him tenderly in his arms… “Tom?” Tom shook his head and smiled a little. “Well, to tell you the truth, I could use another drink. Maybe something a little stronger?” “Oh!” James stood up. “Of course. I have this great new single malt Scotch someone gave me. I’ve been waiting for a reason to open it. I guess this is as good a reason as any.” He smiled sadly. “How about something to eat too? I haven’t eaten yet.” “Now that you mention it, neither have I,” Tom responded, standing as well. He followed James into a very nicely appointed kitchen, the appliances modern, copper pots hung over the large chopping block island in the middle of the room.

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James produced the bottle and opened it, pouring each of them several fingers into thick, heavy glasses. He handed one silently to Tom. They both swirled the amber liquid and sipped. Tom nodded appreciatively. “This is very good,” he said. “Yeah.” James swallowed his in one gulp and poured himself another. “Hey, slow down. You’re on an empty stomach, don’t forget.” “Well, I think I wouldn’t mind getting drunk tonight, to tell you the truth.” He drank again, this time only sipping. “Listen, Tom, I’m trying really hard to be cool here but I have to know. I have to know what you intend to do about this whole thing. Are you going to turn me over to Hunter or are you going to give this thing a chance to play itself out?” Tom sat down at the bright yellow table, a delightful throwback to the 1950s. James set the bottle down on the table. He moved back to the counter, his body turned slightly away, his face a mask hiding his emotions. Tom looked toward him, aware of how hard this must be. “I’m not comfortable with it obviously, but I think more harm than good would come from exposing you at this point. I’m willing to wait and see, as you said.” To his surprise, James started to cry. Not sobbing, but tears appeared in his eyes, one slipping over onto one cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and laughed a little. “I’m sorry. I think that Scotch has gone to my head or something. I guess I’m just so relieved. I’ve been agonizing over this all week—you have no idea.” “I have some idea,” Tom said gently. They stared at each other for several seconds, Tom’s dark eyes looking into James’ blue ones. James looked away and cleared his throat. “How about a cheese and mushroom omelet? I can whip one up in a jiffy, if you like. My specialty.” “That sounds delicious,” Tom agreed. He poured himself more Scotch, aware it was affecting him but not caring. Here he was in James’ house, drinking his whiskey and watching him crack eggs into a bowl. The whole thing was almost surreal—part of one of his many fantasies about this man he’d worked with for three years but never really came to know. 18

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James set a blue glass plate with a fluffy yellow omelet in front of Tom. He brought over a loaf of bread, butter and two bottles of water. “A meal for a king, or a bachelor at any rate.” Tom took a big bite of the eggs and said appreciatively, “This is delicious.” He realized he had been holding a lot of tension in his body since he’d begun to suspect James of the numbers tampering. He’d been dreading both this confrontation and the possibility of having to go to Mr. Hunter. Now he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. James poured each of them another ounce of Scotch, smiling at Tom with those perfect white teeth. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Finally Tom ventured, “So, bachelor, huh? No wife or ex-wife, no girlfriend?” “No. Never married. I’ve had lots of girlfriends, I guess. But no one who really got to me. You know? No one who I felt I couldn’t live without.” “A hopeless romantic, huh?” Tom smiled. “I’d rather think of myself as a hopeful one.” James smiled back. After the meal they moved from the kitchen to the living room, each taking his glass. James grabbed the bottle on his way out of the kitchen. “So,” he said, again settling next to Tom on the couch. “What about you? Any significant other in your life? Any wedding bells in the future?” Tom drank the rest of his whiskey and set the tumbler down. Did he tell the truth? He half suspected James already knew. Sometimes his fantasies about the man seemed more real than real life, so much so he almost fancied James shared them. A beer and several ounces of booze had loosened his tongue, allowing him to say the words he might later deeply regret. “Actually, James, I’m gay.”

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Chapter Three James, who had been staring into his glass, looked up sharply. Tom was watching him, his expression a strange mix of defiance and pleading. James nodded—so his suspicions were confirmed. James considered himself an enlightened man. Someone’s sexual orientation was nobody’s business but their own and none of his concern. So why was his heart suddenly beating a little faster in his chest? Why did his mouth feel dry and his cheeks hot? Trying to sound casual, James said, “Hey, that’s cool. I mean, no big deal.” Tom smiled, relief evident in his face. “I wanted to tell you—” “Hey, I said it’s cool. There’s no reason you should have told me before. Really.” James stood up, confused at his own agitated response. He may have been saying it was cool but he felt anything but cool inside. He could feel his cock stirring in his pants. He felt his lips tingle as if they wanted to feel the press of Tom’s lips. It was hard to catch his breath for some reason and for a moment he felt he might pass out. “James. It’s okay.” Tom’s voice was soothing and low. James glanced down at him to see a smile lifting one corner of Tom’s mouth. “I’m still just Tom Goodwin. You’re still just James Sutherland. Nothing has changed.” James sat down again suddenly. He felt dizzy and he knew it wasn’t just the alcohol. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, man. Nothing has changed.” The memory of that time at the Christmas party came hurtling back into James’ consciousness. He recalled his own peculiar reaction as Tom’s strong masculine thigh had touched his own. To know now, not just idly speculate, but to know Tom was gay gave the memory a much stronger impact in James’ mind. He resisted the urge to stroke his rising cock as he looked in alarm at Tom. What was happening? He knew he was feeling a strong sexual reaction to Tom’s words but it didn’t make sense! He was straight! 20

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Wasn’t he? “Shit,” James said, trying to pull himself out of his tangled thoughts. “I think I had too much to drink.” “Relax, James—please. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought it was going to upset you like this—” “No, no. I’m not upset. At least, I don’t think I’m upset. I’m not sure what I am to tell you the truth, except maybe drunk!” He laughed a little, looking over at Tom, who again gave him that enigmatic little half smile. Feeling foolish, James pointed to a little bowl of peppermints that set in the center of the coffee table. “Have a candy,” he said inanely, taking one himself. “Hey, listen,” Tom said, standing. “Maybe I should go. You must be tired and—” “No!” James hadn’t meant to shout. He lowered his voice, reaching his hand out to Tom. “Stay. Please. Sit down.” Tom shrugged a little and sat back down. James moved closer to him. “Listen,” he said urgently. “Something’s going on in my head but I’m not sure what it is. I just know I don’t want you to go. Not yet. Please.” He put his hand on Tom’s thigh, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fine material of his suit. He resisted a sudden crazy impulse to move his fingers along the thigh, sliding and gliding toward the bulge at his crotch… James shook his head, pulling his hand from Tom’s leg as if it had suddenly grown too hot to touch. “James. Buddy, why don’t you get some rest? You’ve had a really rough day and I’m sure you’re beat.” Again Tom tried to stand. Again James reached out and grabbed his arm. “Tom. I’ve had these fantasies,” he blurted. “Fantasies about men.” His voice dropped to a whisper on the last word. There. He said what he hadn’t known he was going to say and now his tongue tied into knots. Tom sat down, his expression quizzical, his eyes burning darkly. James felt his face go crimson. What was happening? Why was he about to confess to the half-formed 21

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fantasies he sometimes had while masturbating, of being with another man? Of feeling their hardness, of tasting their kiss? James took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tom sat still, expectant. James poured himself yet another ounce of whiskey and set down the now half-empty bottle. He took a long drink, keeping the glass cradled between his hands as he said a little sheepishly, “Courage in a bottle.” Tom answered softly. “James. I can see you have something to say. Something that’s hard for you to say. You’ve had a lot to drink and maybe this isn’t the best time to—” “No! I appreciate what you’re doing, Goodwin. You’re giving me a way out. You’re probably used to asshole straight guys who freak out about the thought of a ‘homo’ coming on to them. And normally I would freak out!” He laughed and said hurriedly, “Not that I think you’re coming on to me! That is, I mean, I think it would be okay if you were. No! I mean, I think I might be wanting to with you. That is…” he trailed off, again feeling flames lick his face and neck. Tom laughed and said in a mock-gruff tone, “Come on now, Sutherland. Get a grip.” More gently he added, “Want me to guess what I think you might be going through right now?” Mutely James nodded, relief flooding him that he didn’t have to try to articulate what he wasn’t even sure of. “Okay. I think you might have had some bisexual fantasies. Some fantasies about other guys. And maybe you feel weird about that because that might make you gay.” As James nodded, Tom continued, “Listen to me. You aren’t the first straight guy to have those feelings. It doesn’t make you gay or even bisexual. Fantasy doesn’t equal reality. Just because you find another man attractive, just because you might have a dream or a daydream about something sexual with another man, that doesn’t mean you want to have sex with a man in real life.” James felt himself blushing yet again and silently cursed himself for his lack of control over his blood flow. Why had he had so much to drink? Courage in a bottle…

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Tom smiled at James and touched his thigh. James felt a current of desire leap from Tom’s fingers to his groin. He didn’t pull away but sat still as a statue, listening to his friend’s soothing voice. “My theory, if you want to know,” Tom continued, “is that no one is purely straight or purely gay. We all have a natural attraction to other human beings, whatever their sex. I think sexual orientation exists along a continuum—some people more skewed toward heterosexuality, some toward homosexuality, all along a continuum of desire—of longing.” His hand, still resting on James’ thigh, pressed him lightly. “You, James, might be more toward the middle of the continuum, that is, bisexual, than you’ve given yourself credit for. Unfortunately our society is quick to condemn a man for having homosexual feelings or desires as you well know! Much more so than women. We’re programmed from birth to behave a certain way and to quash certain feelings as not masculine. If you’re already inclined in that direction, that is, more on the heterosexual side of the continuum, this is fairly easy to do. If, like me,” his voice became rueful, “you’re way to the left of center, sexually speaking, it’s much harder.” James felt a little more comfortable with this abstract discussion, and one that didn’t focus solely on him. Curious, he asked, “So did your family try to ‘make’ you straight? Did you deny your own impulses?” “Me?” Tom ran his fingers through his dark, soft hair and pursed his lips a little. “No. I was lucky. My parents were very accepting of who I was. I knew from about the age of twelve I was gay and they were cool with it. But I’m not typical and alas, neither are they. But back to you.” Tom smiled and turned his body toward James’. James felt his heart quicken in his chest. A part of him couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with Goodwin from work, but another part of him was hanging on each word, desperate for the knowledge offered—the knowledge he really already held within himself. “Back to you,” Tom said again. “I think you might be having some feelings toward me, some desire, and you aren’t sure how to handle it. There is the little issue of our

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working together, for one thing, which could make things sticky. And then there’s the fact of that bottle there, half empty.” Tom pointed to the whiskey bottle. “Alcohol can lower our inhibitions to where we do what we might not have dared to do otherwise.” Tom paused, a struggle seeming to flit on his face for a moment. Finally he said, “I don’t want to be the one to take advantage of that. Not with you.” He said the last words softly, so softly James had to lean toward him to hear. There was longing in the words and a sadness that confused James. He looked into Tom’s face and again saw the naked yearning he’d seen at the Christmas party, so open and vulnerable he looked away a second, feeling as if he were intruding on something very private. When he looked again, it was gone. Tom stood. “Listen, James. This has been a long day for us both. I think I better be going now, okay, buddy? We’ve got a weekend to cool off and act normal again on Monday, like none of this happened. That’s probably what you’ll want when the buzz has worn off.” He tried to laugh but it sounded more like a mournful little bray. If Tom had made a move, would James have reacted differently? If Tom had taken advantage, clearly sensing James’ confusion and vulnerability, would James have found the wherewithal to refuse him—to reject his gay overtures and retreat with a huff into his safe, heterosexual world? But Tom hadn’t made a move. Tom in fact seemed to be the one retreating, rejecting James’ timid efforts to confess his inarticulate desires. James found himself feeling challenged in a strange way. Was Goodwin rejecting him? What was going on? Wasn’t he good enough for the handsome young Tom? Letting his own foolish bravado and imagined injured pride take over, James jumped up as well, moving toward Tom. He gripped Tom’s shoulders with his strong hands. “Stay,” he begged. “I want you to. I want to find out. I want to find out with you, Tom. Please.”

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All of his efforts to let the guy off the hook came to nothing when James stood and pulled him close. Tom knew he shouldn’t do this, knew it wasn’t fair to James who was drunk, or to himself, also drunk but still longing for James as he had for so long now, so long… Could this really be happening? He’d come to James’ house with some vague, dark plan of perhaps forcing sexual favors from his colleague, though he knew in truth he wouldn’t have done it. He couldn’t have lived with himself if he’d extorted sex from the man of his dreams… James was pulling him closer and Tom’s tight self-control seemed to vanish. All night he’d exerted superhuman control, denying and refusing his baser instinct to take advantage of James’ drunken confessions. He had forced himself to be the strong one— to protect the vulnerable James from his own confused feelings. Yes, he did want James, oh God, yes! But not on those terms. He didn’t want to trick him or take him when he was down or drunk. He’d called James a romantic but, he realized, he was just as much of one. Whether this was a sign of strength or weakness, he didn’t yet know. Thoughts were obliterated as they moved closer, James dipping his head, his eyes closing, his lips parting. Barely allowing himself to believe this was happening, Tom felt James’ soft lips touch his own. He wanted to keep his eyes open, to stay on guard for both of them, but despite himself his lids fluttered shut, his heart beating against James’ as they kissed. It wasn’t a long kiss—just a few seconds before James pulled away, and Tom of course let him. They stood staring at one another for a few moments. Tom felt his cock unfolding in his underwear, uncomfortably bent as his balls tightened with desire. Could this be real? He waited for James to come to his senses—to cry out in horror, to scream for Tom to get the fuck out of his house. James didn’t do any of those things. Instead he held out his hand, his eyes eloquent with longing mingled with shyness. This must be a dream, Tom thought as he slipped 25

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his hand into James’. Another of my endless series of daydreams about James. In a moment he’ll say, “Snap out of it, Goodwin,” and I’ll blush and stammer as I’ve done so many times before and that will be that. But that didn’t happen. Silently James, still holding Tom’s hand, led him out of the living room into the hall beyond and through the door of the master bedroom. The style of the room was Japanese, with a king-sized mattress set low on a black lacquered frame, the matching headboard delicately inlaid with a gold motif of cranes flying over fields of grain. Tom barely noticed these details, his subconscious mind storing them for later. He was focused solely on James, who dropped his hand and stood now uncertain, staring at the younger man. Tom couldn’t help but smile at James’ obvious desire juxtaposed with his equally obvious nervousness and uncertainty. How strange it felt to be the one in control! After all this time of secretly pining for this unattainable man—so he had thought!—he was standing in the man’s bedroom, aware of his mute plea for Tom to take charge. “James. Are you sure?” James just nodded, his fingers reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, which he now pulled over his head. Tom couldn’t help the sudden intake of breath as he stared at James’ strong, smooth, tanned chest. James obviously worked out, and it showed. His pecs were well defined, his muscles lying beautifully over a perfect bone structure of broad shoulders and tapering torso. His stomach was strong and lean, a line of dark blond hair ran from his belly button into his jeans. Tom’s eyes followed the line, resting on the telltale bulge in his friend’s pants. He felt his own cock respond, now completely erect in his briefs and suit pants. Following James’ example, he began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it loose from his trousers. His fingers moved over his cufflinks, his eyes now locked on James’ face. He slipped the cufflinks into his pants pocket and slipped his own shirt from his shoulders.

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In a curiously sweet almost submissive gesture, James held out his hands for the shirt and Tom obliged, allowing him to take it and hang it on a hanger in his closet. James returned to where Tom stood, moving very close. Tom saw he was trembling and his heart melted. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around James, whispering, “It’s okay. I promise. Whatever happens, happens at your pace. You decide what we do, if anything.” James nodded, bringing his arms around Tom in kind. Tom could feel James’ heart beating a rapid tattoo against his chest as they embraced. Their bodies moved closer, touching skin to skin, James’ smooth chest against Tom’s hairy one. Tom also worked out and while he wasn’t as large a person as James, he was probably actually stronger, his compact muscles dense as steel. In a silent dance they moved their way over toward the bed, their arms still around one another. Slowly they fell, landing on their sides facing one another. James closed his eyes, his lips parting in a clear invitation for a kiss. Tom obliged, again tasting the sweetness of his dream lover, letting his tongue slip into James’ mouth. James was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring as he allowed Tom to explore his mouth. He tasted of whiskey and peppermint. They kissed for several minutes, James keeping his eyes closed, Tom keeping his open. Was this all whiskey? Would James awaken tomorrow chagrined and embarrassed at what had happened? It was hard to focus on being responsible, on being careful, with James’ intense almost rapturous expression calling to Tom to take more liberties. He pulled away finally, sitting up against the pillows. James opened his eyes at last. His skin was flushed, his eyes shining in the lamplight. “Is this okay?” James asked. He moved up to sit next to Tom. “Is what okay?” Tom answered, not sure what James was asking.

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“You and me. I mean, I don’t really know what I’m doing. I know I’m drunk and you probably are too. I’ve—I’ve never been with a guy before. I’m not sure what the protocol is.” Tom laughed. “The protocol? Are we drawing up loan documents? Negotiating a treaty?” More gently he said, “There is no protocol. There is no script. Just two people exploring something new. I’ve never been with a straight guy either, so this is new to me too.” James nodded. “Listen. I don’t really know what I’m expecting. I don’t know if I’m ready to, you know,” he paused, looking acutely embarrassed. Tom couldn’t help but laugh again. Poor James! The usually supremely confident James Sutherland, the decided “alpha dog” in their relationship at work, seemed so young at that moment, so at a loss. It was quite endearing. “James, I told you before. No script. We do only and exactly what you want to do. Nothing more. And at your pace. If you would like to spend another two hours just kissing, that’s okay with me. I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long now I can hardly believe it’s even happening.” “You’ve dreamed of this moment?” It was Tom’s turn to blush and James’ turn to smile slightly. He cocked his head, waiting for a response. Tom’s first instinct was to backtrack, to bluster, to protect himself. But he decided if he was asking James to be open, he should be as well. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I lost my heart to you the first time I saw you three years ago at the interview. Do you remember? I was so nervous, fresh out of grad school and you were on the interviewing committee with Hunter and Betty Ann Clark. Hunter was giving me the third degree and I was pretty sure I had blown it, and you stepped in and asked me what you could tell me about the bank. You helped me out by redirecting me, remember? You let me off the hook. “And while you were talking about the advantages of working for Valley Federal, I got a chance to look at you. At your dark blue eyes, so serious, sparkling as you talked about your work. At your strong jaw, your kissable lips, your blond hair falling into 28

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your eyes just like it is now.” James pushed his hair from his eyes and grinned. “I was totally smitten. Have been ever since.” Tom waited, certain he’d overstepped. Damn! He should have played it cooler. But he knew he wasn’t the cool type. He was the hot and bothered type, he thought ruefully as he waited for James to recoil, to turn his body away, to stand up and say this had been a huge mistake… “You go off in your head a lot, you know?” James said suddenly, snapping Tom back to the moment. “You do it all the time. I’ve seen you drift in the middle of a loan presentation, in the middle of working at your computer, in the middle of lunch. You just seem to disappear suddenly. Just now you disappeared. Where did you go? I wanted to hear more about how handsome I am!” He laughed and the tension Tom felt was dispelled as he laughed too. “I guess you’re right. I live in my head a lot. As accepting as you seem to be of my homosexuality, you know that’s not the norm. People pretend to be accepting, but put a queer in their midst and it’s another story. Think about Hunter and his old cronies. Imagine if they suspected my orientation! I’d be out on my ass! Oh they couldn’t outright fire me, but you know things would never be the same. I would be put on the fast track out the door, one way or the other. So I’ve learned to be discreet. To keep my deepest feelings hidden when in ‘mixed’ company. I don’t think I would have ever confessed to you if this strange series of events hadn’t occurred.” “I’m glad you did. I kind of knew, you know. I mean, remember the Christmas party? Something happened then, didn’t it? It wasn’t just my imagination? Thing is, I felt it too but I didn’t dare admit it. To admit it would be to call into question my whole sexuality.” “It doesn’t have to. I told you—” James put two fingers lightly against Tom’s mouth. “I know what you told me. And it’s bullshit. At least for me. I’m not a straight guy who’s drunk and curious. I’m not saying I’m gay, but I am saying I’m extremely attracted to you, Tom. It’s like a secret 29

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door’s been opened inside of me. You’ve got the key. Please help me to find out what’s inside. Please.”

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Chapter Four James rustled his newspaper as he turned the pages, staring at the newsprint. He hadn’t read a word. It was seven o’clock on Monday morning and he’d just spent the strangest, most amazing weekend of his life with another man. Another man! James felt the onrush of confusion he’d been experiencing periodically ever since Friday night when Tom Goodwin had showed up at his door. When he wasn’t feeling confused, he was feeling by turns euphoric and terrified. James loosened his tie slightly and leaned back in his chair. He liked to get to the office before anyone else, punching in the alarm code and illuminating the dark lobby with a flick of the light switch. Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, he would handle items in his inbox and mentally prepare for the day ahead. Today he sat back in his large black leather chair, his hands behind his head, no longer even pretending to read the news as he recalled the weekend… When James had asked Tom to help him unlock his secret feelings, he had been honest in saying something new had been opened inside himself. Tom’s kiss had freed him to admit a truth he’d never dared examine before—his very real attraction to other men. When Tom had touched his lips to James’ cock head, he thought he would explode on the spot. He was barely aware of how they had gotten their pants off, but there he was lying down, his cock thickly erect along his belly with Tom kneeling over him, his face hidden by his soft, dark hair falling over his eyes, casting a shadow on his cheek. James closed his eyes, wondering if it “counted” if he lay very still and pretended he didn’t know it was a naked man whose mouth was closing over the head of his cock instead of a woman. The fact it was Tom made it that much more “forbidden”. They

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worked together, for God’s sake! How would he face him on Monday? How would he face himself? As Tom’s tongue lightly snaked over James’ shaft, he forgot to worry. He couldn’t help the little moan that escaped his lips as Tom’s hand cupped his balls, applying a slight tension as his mouth slid over the bulbous head of James’ cock and moved down to take the shaft in a velvet embrace of lips and tongue. Was it because he was a man himself and thus knew just how to touch and tease him? Or was Tom simply the most skilled lover he’d ever been with? James thought about it now, mentally comparing his past lovers’ skill at oral sex. The women he’d tended to choose were usually willing to suck his cock and got the job done, he thought wryly. But for Tom it hadn’t seemed like a job at all, but an offering, a homage. James shifted in his office chair, feeling his cock rise as he recalled Tom’s hot mouth closing over his member. James’ cock was large—long and thick—and most women had trouble handling his girth. Tom didn’t seem fazed, lowering his head slowly as he took James’ shaft into his mouth. When James felt the soft, hot back of Tom’s throat make contact with his cock head he gasped and shuddered, willing himself not to orgasm—not yet. Tom, perhaps sensing his near release, pulled back, easing the cock from his mouth. Ignoring James’ cock for a while, he instead covered James’ belly and thighs with little kisses, his tongue teasing the flesh, his lips like butterfly wings. James opened his eyes, looking down at the young man who was setting his body on fire with pleasure. Tom looked up at that moment and their eyes locked. James was taken aback by the expression on Tom’s face. It wasn’t merely lust that smoldered there, though that was surely part of it. Something else was at play—something tender, something vulnerable. James closed his eyes, at once thrilled and frightened by what he had seen—love. What had Tom said? I lost my heart to you the first time I saw you. That had been three years ago! For three years had this gracious, quiet man secretly been pining for James? 32

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He didn’t know how to react. He’d always liked Tom and in his most secret sexual fantasies perhaps he’d used the image of Tom—but love? And with another man, no less! James wasn’t even sure he was capable of love. Tom had resumed his attentions to James’ cock, suckling and kissing it, drawing James to the edge of orgasm over and over. His skill was clear as he lovingly tormented James, stopping just short of allowing his seed to spurt—pulling back or lightly slapping his balls and cock, startling James from his sexual reverie. The hint of pain was enough to make his orgasm recede but ironically, a moment later his erection would rage even stronger. Finally, sweating, near tears and dizzy with need, James was at last permitted to come by his deliciously cruel lover. This time Tom didn’t pull away as he drew his mouth up and down James’ cock, the friction so intense James wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d caused a fire from the heat. As James arched up, screaming his passion, Tom took his seed, greedily swallowing his ejaculate, not releasing James until every drop was delivered. Tom sat back on his haunches, his own cock still hard as steel, perpendicular from his belly. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and grinned shyly at James. James allowed Tom to roll him over on his belly, aware he was being passive and greedy, but unable to help himself. Tom had left him completely spent and now he began to massage James’ shoulders, back, ass and legs, even his feet, easing every bit of tension that remained from his body with strong, capable fingers. They didn’t say a word, indeed James felt he had lost the capacity for speech, so utterly sated and sexually spent his mind had melted into incoherent bliss. He awoke later that night. Outside it was dark, any moon obscured by clouds. The room was softy lit by the hall light seeping in through the open door. A glance at his clock confirmed it was well after midnight. Tom was sleeping next to him, his body turned away from James, his shoulders rising and dropping softly as he slept. James lifted himself on one arm, gazing over at the sleeping man next to him.

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Jesus! A naked man was in his bed! Not just any man but Tom Goodwin, his colleague at work, the keeper of his dangerous secret about the new loan deal and his…lover? James touched Tom’s shoulder and Tom sighed a little in his sleep but otherwise didn’t stir. James pulled lightly at Tom’s shoulder, drawing the still-sleeping man onto his back. Tom remained still, his eyes closed, his dark straight hair falling over his forehead. James looked at him a long while—there was intelligence and kindness in his face, even in repose. His eyes moved down to Tom’s masculine hairy chest, the dark curls a soft mat over a well-muscled torso. James took hold of the sheet that still covered Tom’s lower half and carefully slid it down, fully revealing his naked lover. Tom’s cock was semierect, surrounded by dark curling pubic hair. James’ heart was hammering in his chest. He felt excited in a way he had never felt when lying with a woman. He realized with a small jolt the thrill wasn’t only because this was another man but because it was Tom. Along with the sexual arousal he couldn’t deny, an overlay of affection for this man, an affection built on friendship and trust, but more than that—a real attraction to Tom for Tom’s sake. Carefully James knelt up, not wanting to awaken Tom, not yet. He knew he couldn’t possibly deliver the wild, searing pleasure Tom had given him. He wasn’t even sure if he could do this, but James felt an urge and a deep curiosity to touch another man. Tentatively he reached out, stroking the soft skin of Tom’s cock with his fingers. Almost at once he felt it respond, engorging and rising like a live thing as James closed his hand lightly over the shaft, his other hand reaching out to cup the heavy, delicate balls beneath. Tom sighed again, turning his head away from James, as if caught in a dream. He still seemed to be asleep and this gave James courage he might not have otherwise found. He stroked the cock with more confidence, smiling a little as it distended to a full 34

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erection. Tom’s cock was smaller than James’ since Tom was a smaller person, but it was just as thick—straight and hard. James brought his face close to the head, inhaling the musky aroma of another man—headier and more intense than the scent of a woman. He was afraid to touch it with his mouth yet he wanted to. After some hesitation he bent forward and lightly licked the head with his tongue. He glanced at Tom’s face. He lay still, eyes closed, his breathing even. Feeling his own cock harden, James closed his mouth over the head, noting the spongy softness and the pleasing contrast with the hard shaft he still held in his fingers. He moved his head down a little and gagged, unused to something so large in his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he tried again and again he gagged. How did people do this? He tried a third time, and this time he felt Tom’s hand touching lightly on the back of his head, as if silently encouraging him. Knowing Tom was awake seemed to change everything. James felt his face suffuse with heat, though in the dark Tom would not see his blush. He pulled back, shaking Tom’s hand from his head, suddenly ashamed of the whole sordid affair. James fell back on his pillow, turning his body from Tom, drawing himself up tight in a fetal position. He heard Tom turning toward him and then felt his hand lightly touch his back. “It’s okay, James. Just rest now. Go to sleep. I don’t expect a thing from you, I promise. Tonight has been a dream come true for me. I expect nothing further. In fact, if you’d feel more comfortable, I’ll go now. Shall I go?” Tom’s voice was light, soothing, yet James thought he detected a note of sadness in it. Again shame washed over him, not for what they had done but for how he was treating Tom, as if Tom had done something wrong or had tried to force something from James he wasn’t ready to give. James slowly uncurled his body and turned back toward Tom. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m being an ass. I don’t know what I’m doing, to tell you the truth. I feel 35

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like a virgin, and a stupid one at that! I’m confused about all the different feelings slamming around in my head.” “Shh.” Tom lightly touched James’ lips. “Sleep now. We have time to process all this tomorrow. We have all the time in the world. Why don’t I go now and—” “No!” Without thinking about it, James reached out and pulled Tom into an embrace. “Please. Stay the night. You’re right, we’ve got a lot to process.” James laughed a little, aware how the words conveyed so little of what was going on between them. “I just know I don’t want you to go.” Tom nodded, allowing James to hold him, nuzzling his head against James’ strong chest. James lay awake for some time after that, enjoying the feeling of holding Tom in his arms. He felt at once tender and aroused, too tired at last to worry or torture himself about what it all meant. When he awoke again, the room was bathed in the golden pink light of dawn. Tom was asleep on his back, his arm over his face, the sheet covering his lower body. James could see Tom’s erection lifting the sheets and he smiled, wondering if Tom was dreaming of him. Tentatively he pulled the sheets from Tom’s body, admiring the sleeping man’s erection, marveling to realize he was naked in bed with another man. Sighing softly in his sleep, Tom shifted, dropping his arm to his side. James froze, waiting to see if Tom would awaken, but he seemed to drift back into sleep. James knelt up next to Tom, stroking the erect cock with his fingers. He licked his fingers and again grasped the shaft, pulling up and down the flesh the way he touched himself when alone. Tom moaned but kept still, perhaps having learned from last time. James smiled a little, deciding to use only his hands and thus save himself from being embarrassed again. There was time—Tom had said they had all the time in the world. He didn’t have to spring fully formed into the world as a gay man. A gay man! James tried the idea out in his head and found it wasn’t wholly displeasing. Probably bisexual was more 36

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accurate since he was attracted to women as well. He must fall closer to the gay side of the continuum was all. He stopped analyzing as Tom began to breathe more rapidly, his red lips parting, his strong chest heaving as James continued to caress and pull his cock, shifting himself to between Tom’s legs so he could better handle the hard shaft and delicate balls. Tom was gasping, certainly awake though his eyes remained closed, his hands loosely at his sides. James knew he was close to orgasm as he felt the other man’s balls tighten against his palm. Without thinking about it, James let a finger trail down from Tom’s balls and lightly flick against his asshole. As his finger made contact with the little nether pucker, Tom ejaculated, grunting his pleasure, his neck flushed, his body rising up to meet James’ hands. He fell back, his dark eyes slowly opening as James watched him come down from his orgasm-induced high. Tom again looked shy, smiling uncertainly toward James, who grinned back broadly. He felt a curious sort of elation spread through his body. He’d made women come before of course, but he’d never experienced the intense rush of pleasure and power he now felt at having made Tom come. Along with the pleasure and power was again that curious tenderness. He was ridiculously pleased to have given Tom an orgasm. He wanted, he realized, to make him happy. They’d slept again, snuggled in spoon position, Tom’s arms around James, wrapping him in sensual security. James drifted to sleep again, stunned to realize he was happy, frightened to realize he might be falling in love…with a man.

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Chapter Five “Sutherland. Snap out of it.” Tom grinned. How deliciously ironic to find the usually industrious, always busy James staring dreamily into space like a lovesick puppy. Tom barely dared to think he might be the object of James’ dreams. He was just happy to see him again. What a weekend! They’d awoken Saturday morning and Tom had waited to see which way James’ decree would fall now that he was sober in the cold light of day. Tom tried to prepare himself for the very real chance James would deny or reject what had passed between them, using the whiskey as an excuse for behavior he now found repugnant. If this happened, Tom knew he’d have to start a job search. He couldn’t bear the thought of his dream lover rejecting him and then having to work with him day in and day out, spurned and despised, his deepest feelings ripped to tatters… To Tom’s delight and huge relief, James had not denied nor rejected what had happened between them. He did seem different—less cocky and self-assured than the James Sutherland at the bank, the senior vice president who took risks and almost always got what he wanted. He seemed almost shy around Tom, looking to him for direction in their new relationship, if Tom could dare to call it that. They showered separately—Tom’s fantasy of washing his lover’s body would have to wait, but he was a patient man. Both of them were ravenous and James didn’t have much in the way of food to eat in his house—in that regard he was stereotypically straight, as Tom teased him. They agreed to meet at the pancake restaurant once Tom had gone back to his apartment to change into something more comfortable. While home he packed an overnight bag, deciding it was better to be prepared. If James invited him back, he would have his own things—if he didn’t, the bag would stay nestled in the trunk of his car and no harm done.

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Over breakfast they’d talked of neutral things, avoiding both the Stafford & Gray loan deal and the astonishing events of the night before. Tom was heartened though by the mere fact James had wanted to meet for breakfast. He may not have been ready to talk about things but he hadn’t sent Tom away either. Tom was quiet mainly because he was stunned. Stunned to think the impossible had come true. The unattainable James Sutherland had slept in his arms last night! Had let him make oral love to his cock, had given Tom such a powerful orgasm with his strong fingers he had nearly passed out with pleasure. Tom kept glancing at James—at his sunny blond hair, his brilliant blue eyes, his easy smile and strong jaw—wondering if he was caught in yet another of his endless daydreams. But each time he looked, James was still there, sipping his coffee, eating his pancakes, gossiping about someone at the bank or discussing the latest sports scores. After breakfast they had parted, agreeing to meet for dinner at a bistro near the bank. Dinner was delicious and they consumed an entire bottle of wine between them before returning to James’ house. Talk had again remained neutral with Tom taking his cue from James. Tom had been prepared for a possibly platonic visit, forcing himself not to get his hopes—or his cock!—up, aware James was still probably reeling from the experience of the night before. He hadn’t been prepared for James’ sudden amorous attack. James had preceded Tom into his house and Tom had barely closed the front door when James pushed him against it, dipping his head to kiss the shorter man, his lips insistent, his hands holding Tom’s face still. At first Tom just stood there, allowing himself to be kissed. Then his body took over and he kissed James back, his heart doing little loop-the-loops of joy inside his chest. He actually felt his knees go weak with pleasure and desire as James’ hands roamed down his chest, pulling up his shirt and slipping down his belly. Finally he sank to his knees, his fingers finding James’ belt buckle. James allowed him to open his jeans, letting him draw them past slender hips along with his

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underwear. James’ cock sprang out fully erect as Tom greedily paid it the homage it was due. Before he could finish the job, James gently pulled him to his feet. “Not here,” he said. “Come to bed.” Tom followed, his feet fairly floating across the floor. Once in the bedroom James stripped, his tall, strong body elegant and lean, a lovely golden tan except where his bathing suit must have covered his skin. Tom stripped as well, his eyes always on James as if he might disappear if he turned his head for just a moment. As they stood naked, separated by several feet, Tom felt a kind of power settle over his being like a mantle. James was clearly waiting— waiting to be directed, to be controlled, to be used. “Show me your ass,” Tom said quietly, not sure where this command had come from, fierce desire allowing his naturally dominant impulse to emerge at last. James blushed and Tom smiled slightly, his cock hardening even more, if that was possible, at the sight of his blushing virgin lover standing before him. James obeyed, slowly turning around. His ass was strong and firm, a dimple just above each cheek, the hollows on each side accentuating the muscle of his buttocks. Tom couldn’t help the intake of breath as he took in this model-perfect man. He wanted to take him then and there—to throw him to the bed and use him without preamble. Yet he knew this would terrify James and destroy the fledgling trust between them. Keeping a tight rein on his rising lust Tom said, “I want you to get on your hands and knees on the bed. I’m just going to touch you. Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to do anything but touch your body with my hands and my mouth. Is that okay with you, James?” James, his back still to Tom, nodded and moved to the bed, kneeling on his hands and knees as Tom had instructed. Perhaps he found it easier not to make eye contact. Tom moved behind him, kneeling up so his own cock rested against James’ ass. James shivered but otherwise remained still.

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Slowly Tom moved his hands sensuously over James’ warm, supple flesh, delighting with each shiver he elicited. Leaning over him, Tom reached beneath his body, finding and fondling the thick, hard cock and dangling sac beneath it. He felt the little drop of pre-cum at its tip and drew the moisture along the shaft as James moaned. He massaged James’ cock for a while, not enough to make him come but enough to pull the satin skin taut over a raging erection hard as nails. Tom knelt up away from James’ body for a moment, fondling his own ignored cock for a moment as he said, “Don’t move. I’m going to touch you now in ways you perhaps aren’t used to. I want you to trust me and to keep still. Can you do that?” James nodded, his body trembling very slightly. Tom knew he was afraid but also deeply aroused. Tom himself was near to orgasm just from touching his gorgeous, innocent lover. He stopped touching his cock and climbed off the bed, kneeling on the floor so his face was level with James’ ass. Gently he kissed one perfect globe. James shuddered but stayed still. He kissed the other cheek and then gently parted them, revealing the puckered hole at the center of the cleft. James was breathing hard but so far had obeyed Tom’s directive. Tom reached around a moment, checking James’ erection, which still bobbed hard as a rock. Satisfied James wanted what was happening, Tom again focused on his perfect ass. Leaning forward he lightly flicked James’ asshole with his tongue. James pulled away just a little and Tom gripped his hips with his hands. James was very clean, tasting very slightly of soap. Tom licked again, keeping a firm grip so James couldn’t pull away as easily. “Oh,” James said softly. He was breathing shallowly, his body trembling so that Tom said, “Breathe, James. Take slow, deep breaths. You’re safe with me. Nothing will happen to you that you don’t want to happen. I promised you that before and it still holds. Let me explore your beautiful, perfect body. All you have to do is stay still and in position. I’ll do the rest.

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Understand? Now breathe deeply and slowly.” As James tried to obey, Tom crooned, “That’s right. Relax. Let me taste you.” Again he lowered his head, his tongue making contact with James’ asshole. This time he pressed the tip into the entrance and James jumped a little but otherwise stayed still. Tom laved his cleft, moving his tongue skillfully, slipping down to lick James’ balls dangling between his legs and gliding back up to the little virgin entrance between his strongly muscled ass cheeks. Finally he’d climbed back on the bed, his own cock so hard he knew he would ejaculate if James so much as looked at him. He pressed his cock between James’ ass cheeks, moving slowly up and down the hot cleft as his hands found James’ cock and fondled it. James moaned and fell out of position, falling to his side and pulling Tom with him. He was breathing hard again, panting, his eyes wild as Tom lay next to him, reaching for his cock. “I can’t!” James cried. “It’ll hurt! I can’t do it. I can’t let you! I’m afraid!” His voice was rising in panic and Tom realized he thought Tom was going to try and penetrate when he’d pressed himself against him. “No, don’t worry! Of course you can’t. I wouldn’t expect that so soon! Relax! I’m sorry. I just wanted to feel you, to press against your strength. Forgive me for frightening you.” James had relaxed then, his expression at once chagrined and grateful as he reached out to take Tom in his arms. “That thing, whatever you did with your mouth…” he trailed off until Tom prompted him to continue. “It was…so intense. So hot. I can’t describe it. I’ve never felt like this before! This combination of fear and desire. This mixture of trepidation and lust! This must be what girls feel like, virgins in love, wanting to be taken but terrified nonetheless.” “You sweet romantic man,” Tom laughed, delighted at this new, vulnerable aspect in James. “It must be very much like that. But don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” His voice was teasing and James took a mock swipe at him as they both laughed. 42

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Instead of taking his virgin ass, Tom had again kissed his lover to orgasm and allowed James to do the same for him. James was still inexperienced, unable to take much more than the head of Tom’s cock into his mouth without gagging, but what he lacked in experience he more than made up for in enthusiasm, his lips, tongue and fingers moving over Tom’s cock until he exploded with pleasure. Tom knew the skill would come in time and he was delighted at the thought of teaching his new lover. They’d slept off and on through the night and into Sunday, waking to bring each to orgasm over and over again, drifting back to sleep between bouts of lovemaking. James no longer shivered with fear and his own attentions to Tom’s body became more confident as the night progressed. By Sunday afternoon they agreed Tom had to go home or neither of them would get a thing done and neither would be able to make it to work the next day. “You’ve ruined me for women, you realize that,” James had teased. “I certainly hope so!” Tom had teased back.

***** “I want it.” “Are you sure?” “Yes. I’m ready! Don’t make me wait anymore.” It was a rainy Sunday morning, the sky outside slate gray. James and Tom had been lovers for two weeks now. Things had been slightly awkward at work at first but they’d fallen into their old patterns of interacting at the office, and it had been fairly easy to keep their private lives private. At work James still called Tom “Goodwin”, but when they were alone together now he always called him Tom. They’d agreed it was too draining to spend the night together during the weekdays, but they did meet for dinner each night and now they were talking, really talking, about what they were experiencing. Tom had never been with a lover so willing to share his fears and vulnerabilities. They found they had much in common—not only their 43

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attraction to one another but a shared philosophy about life and how to live it. They were becoming not only lovers but good friends. Tom had never been happier in his life. He’d purposely avoided anal intercourse with his new lover, even though he knew it was the final step in cementing their relationship as serious partners. They did engage in anal play, Tom using his finger to penetrate James by way of preparation for the ultimate erotic adventure to come. James would lay very still, his eyes closed, as Tom stroked his virgin entrance, murmuring for him to relax. James’ arousal was clear as he shuddered and moaned, his cock hardening with the attention. Now Tom’s cock distended, engorging as he contemplated taking James’ virgin ass. James hadn’t expressed a desire to fuck Tom, but only to be fucked by him. Tom wasn’t troubled by this as he had been in various gay relationships where he was the only one to take his lover anally or where he was on the receiving end. Some couples switched, taking turns and some gay couples didn’t have anal intercourse at all. He knew James might one day like to be the “aggressor” but Tom was in no hurry. He wanted to accept James on James’ term and he wanted the experience to be wonderful for them both. James knelt in front of Tom, his oral skills much improved after just two weeks. He took Tom’s thick shaft back into his throat, drawing a sigh of pleasure as Tom’s body thrilled to his attentions. After a few moments James sat back and said, “There. You’re hard now. Fuck me.” Tom laughed despite himself. As James climbed onto the bed, Tom took a condom and slipped it over his cock. He smeared a copious dollop of lubricant over the latex and knelt up behind his lover. “You want this?” he whispered into James’ ear as he kissed his neck. “Yes,” James whispered back, wiggling his ass slightly against Tom in his eagerness.

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“It’s going to hurt, but just a little. The more you can relax the easier it will be. If you want me to stop at any time, you just say so. This isn’t a contest. It’s all about pleasure for us both. Understand?” “Do it. Stop talking and do it.” James voice was teasing but Tom knew he was ready. He touched his cock head to James’ asshole, which was clenched tight. “Spread your cheeks for me. It forces you to relax. You can’t clench your muscles if you’re holding yourself open.” James obeyed, resting his cheek against the mattress to balance himself as he reached back to bare his asshole for his lover. As Tom pressed his cock again to the entrance he reached under James, massaging his erect cock to help him relax. Holding one of James’ hips to keep him steady, Tom pushed, pressing past the tight ring of muscle, the head of his cock popping past the sphincter suddenly as James gave a little yelp. “That was the worst of it,” he murmured, trying to keep his voice calm. His blood was pounding in his ears, his heart hammering in his chest as he poised to claim his lover in this most intimate of ways. James was breathing hard but he didn’t pull away. “You okay?” Tom whispered against James’ ear as he dropped James’ cock, guiding himself fully into him, both hands on James’ hips. James nodded, dipping his head back to nuzzle Tom’s cheek with his own. “It’s so full! It’s like nothing I imagined. It doesn’t hurt, not after that first push. I—I think I like it.” Tom heard the shyness mingled with the eagerness in his lover’s voice. Slowly he began to move, pushing deeper into him then withdrawing, knowing the friction and thrust would create a pleasure deep in James’ loins. If he “liked” it now, he would love it when Tom was done with him, he was certain. Though Tom was modest and even somewhat reserved, he knew how to pleasure a man. Adding love to the mix gave him a skill born of passion. James began to moan, little staccato cries with each thrust. Tom saw he was massaging his own cock, his hand moving rapidly in time to Tom’s now rhythmic 45

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thrusts. Tom felt his own pleasure mounting as he moved inside his lover. As James seemed to adapt, Tom thrust harder and faster and James pushed back against him, easily holding them both up with his strong legs. Tom felt the onrush of release slamming through him like a tidal wave. He could no longer control his body or his orgasm as he was pushed helplessly over the wave of pleasure. He fell forward hard against James’ strong body as he came, causing James to collapse beneath him with a cry. They lay still for at least a full minute, their hearts beating in unison and finally slowing. Carefully Tom eased himself from James’ ass and sat up to dispose of the condom in the plastic bag he’d placed by the bed beforehand. “Made a bit of a mess here,” James grinned, rolling over to reveal his cock sticky with his own ejaculate. Tom looked down and grinned. “What a mess, Sutherland,” he teased. “I’m afraid I’m going to have give you a full shower. Can’t be helped.” James hung his head, trying to hide his grin but failing utterly. “I love you,” he whispered so quietly Tom couldn’t actually hear the words, though he’d read them clearly enough on his lips. “Me too you,” he mouthed back, as sunlight suddenly burst through the spent clouds outside the windows, bathing them in a golden light.

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About the Author Claire Thompson has written numerous novels and short stories, all exploring aspects of Dominance & submission. Ms. Thompson’s gentler novels seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving exchange of power. Her darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism. She writes about the timeless themes of sexuality and romance, with twists and curves to examine the ‘darker’ side of the human psyche. Ultimately Claire’s work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for love and intensity of experience.

Claire welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Also by Claire Thompson Bird In a Cage – with J.W. McKenna Closely Held Secrets Club de Sade Crimson Ties Face of Submission Golden Boy Jewel Thief Outcast Pleasure Planet anthology Sacred Circle Secret Diaries The Seduction of Colette Slave Castle Slave Gamble Turning Tricks

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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