The Agency

The Agency by D. J. Manly

Atlantic Bridge www.atlanticbridge.net

Copyright ©2007 by D.J. Manly

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Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2007, D.J. Manly. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors. This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

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Chapter One The man sitting on the velvet sofa gave Amanda what could only be interpreted as a snooty arrogant smile. With that thin smile, expensive suede coat, and three hundred dollar silk scarf, it was obvious he thought himself above most people. Hell, he probably also thought she had no business in this office—a place where men came to satisfy their deepest sexual cravings. After all, men were supposed to have the monopoly on getting exactly what they wanted sexually. Women were just supposed to lie there quietly and hope the men hit the right spot once in awhile. She had news for him. She had long ago lost her inhibitions when it came to getting exactly what she wanted. And she had the money. Why should men have all the fun? Suddenly Jacques Larose appeared. He glanced at the man. "Mr. Cook. Please forgive me for keeping you waiting. I had a..." He paused, his blue eyes widening as his gaze settled on the woman standing a few feet away. "Amanda?" he said, a slow smile deepening the lines at the sides of his mouth. "Amanda Martindale." Amanda put down the fashion magazine she'd been leafing through, and closed the distance between herself and Larose. Mr. Cook made no secret of being perturbed by the interruption. "Mr. Larose," he said haughtily. "I am in a hurry and..."

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"Of course," he said in his charming French accent. All the while meeting Amanda's eyes, he told the other man, "Please, Mr. Cook, step into my office. I'll be but a minute." Mr. Cook brushed past Jacques Larose, mumbling something under his breath, and Jacques held out his hand to Amanda. "How have you been, chérie?" "Fine," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Just fine." "I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Is Chase still with you?" "With my brother." When she saw his shocked expression, she laughed. "I was no competition, apparently." He ran his eyes over her tight white linen suit and ruffled blue blouse. "Still beautiful. So you're alone now?" "Yes." "I'm sorry about Chase. I thought he'd stay, especially after the tragedy with Cassidy. And Scott, have you heard from him? I presume he..." "Water under the bridge." She cut him off, not really wanting to get into that discussion. "My brother is happy, and at least"—she smirked ... "we've kept it in the family. I keep reminding him that I had Chase first. Brings a whole new definition to sibling rivalry, don't you think?" Larose cocked his handsome head; his hair was jet black, with only the slightest bit of grey at the temples. "Sometimes it's hard to read you, Amanda." She met his eyes. "Good. Being mysterious is sexy, n'estce pas?" "Yes," he said, his face widening into a smile. 5

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"To be honest, I'm truly happy for Chase and my brother. Now, if you have some time, I would like to..." "D'accord," he replied with a nod, glancing towards his office. "Just let me finish up with this client and I will be right with you. Shall I have the maid bring you something?" "No. I'm fine. Take your time. I'm in no hurry." He patted her shoulder lightly and disappeared into his office. Amanda glanced around her. Not much had changed since the last time she'd come here. Beautiful originals by some of the masters hung on the wall, lush and sensuous. The chairs were fine grain leather. The latest fashion magazines were stacked on the designer coffee table. She had been given the grand tour of this place once by Jacques Larose himself. Larose had good instincts. He had known she would be a lucrative client. He'd wanted to make her feel special, although she was in fact quite sure that all his clients were subjected to the same red carpet treatment. Not many people knew about "The Agency." It was strictly for the discriminating, the discreet, and the filthy rich. Publicly, Larose was known as an independent investor. He dabbled in this and that and played the market; indeed, he had plenty of disposable income. He was almost as rich as she was. This forty-five room mansion was his principal residence, but he had other, more exclusive, out of the way places as well, including a villa in the south of France she had been invited to, but hadn't visited yet. The fact that Larose was constantly surrounded by beautiful men, and that in his Los Angeles home anywhere from six to ten of those men 6

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occupied several of the luxury bedrooms, made him either damn lucky or simply eccentric, depending on who was doing the talking. To the naïve, Larose was a multimillionaire with a variety of boy toys to cater to his every whim. To his clients, he was the most powerful upscale pimp in the business. It was here in this mansion she'd first laid eyes on Scott. And even though Larose had tried to talk her out of taking him home, saying he was better suited for a weekend party than as a permanent play toy, she had taken him anyway. In spite of the many "quirks" Larose had told her about, Scott hadn't come cheap. In order to take Scott off his hands permanently, there had been a one-time fee, but Larose factored in not only what it cost to educate, groom, and house Scott, but the potential loss of income calculated on the man's age and marketability. Amanda swallowed. He had been worth every penny. She still missed Scott, and now that Chase was gone as well, she felt her aloneness like never before. She sighed. The pastel colors in the painting before her suddenly swam in front of her eyes. She had almost come here a few times over the last months, but she'd hesitated, even though her own brother had been bothering her to find someone to be with. "Mandy," Jordon had said on the phone just a few nights ago, "I want to see you happy. I don't want to see you end up alone." She appreciated his concern, but being with one man who told her what to do, whose needs she had to worry about and cater to, didn't interest her. She didn't give a damn if Jordon approved or not; her boys made her happy. She just wondered if she was ready to make the emotional investment 7

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again. Losing Scott had practically broken her heart, not to mention seeing Chase fall madly in love with her brother. Of course, she chose these men on purpose—men who desired other men. It was the risk she took. Suddenly the door to Larose's office opened and the haughty man stalked out. He looked disgruntled. Larose placed a hand on the man's shoulder as he ushered him through the glass doors of his office and out into the lobby. After a few words, the man disappeared. Larose raised his hands as he came back through the doors, reminding Amanda of how very French he was. "Some people," he said with a sigh. "They are very hard to ah ... accommodate. Come, Amanda," he said, motioning her into his office. These gestures of his were quite charming really, as charming as the man himself. Fortyish, in excellent physical shape with a handsome face and intoxicating dark blue eyes, she could almost imagine how he could get these beauties to do just about anything for him. She'd often wondered how many of them he'd actually fucked. She'd teased him about it over the years, but he would always laugh and say, "I never kiss and tell." She took a seat opposite him now, putting down her handbag and crossing her legs. Larose poured them some very expensive red wine and sat back in his chair. He ran a hand through his thick black hair and smiled. "I am so happy to see you. Remind me when we met last, ma belle?" "Six months ago actually, at the fund raiser for the Children's Foundation. Remember that horrible lobster?" 8

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"Ah, oui. Time flies," he commented absently. "That is the expression, oui?" "Yes." She nodded agreement. "What can I do for you, chérie? Fix you up for the night, a weekend? Would you like someone to accompany you on a beautiful voyage? Europe is beautiful this time of year. I know this lovely little..." "Jacques," she interrupted, leaning forward. "I want another companion." "Ah," he said, sitting back, pursing his lips. He pressed his thumbs together. "Alors, I think I can make a few suggestions, mais..." "Can I see some photos?" He nodded. "Certainly." He swirled the base around on his computer screen so that it faced her, then typed in some commands. "I have presently six here at the mansion, ah, no"—he shook his head ... "sorry, five, five only, and another twenty or so scattered around Europe. If you're willing to wait, I could..." "Show me who you have here first," she told him. "Then we'll consider Europe." She knew of the exotic beauties that could be found over there. After all, she had found Ciel in France. "I keep only the finest of men..." he began, as a head shot of one young man came up, Malibu beach blond, blue eyes. "That's why I'm here," Amanda said, focusing on the screen, then shaking her head. "That won't do. You have only head shots?" 9

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"I have, ah ... more detailed photographs, but only hard copies. I don't keep them on the computer." Amanda looked him directly in the eye, pushing the screen back around. "Show me those, then. Head shots tell me nothing, Jacques." Larose took a key out of the pocket of his Armani suit jacket. He unlocked the side drawer of his desk and took out a file folder, then slid it across the desk to her. Amanda placed her hand on it. "I will give you some time to look at them. I have a phone call to make. Please make yourself at home. I will be back in, say ... a half hour? That should give you plenty of time." "Merci beaucoup, Jacques," she said with a smile. "Help yourself to another glass of wine." He stood and indicated the crystal decanter on the sideboard with a sweep of his elegant hand. "I will. Delicious." She lifted the glass to her lips and took another sip. "1984 Burgundy?" "Bravo." He clapped his hands. "Precisely. Enjoy." He issued her a slow wink, and walked out, closing the door softly behind him. Amanda took out the first glossy photograph. It showed a completely naked man lying on a bed with silver satin sheets. Umm. Delicious body, although a little too muscle-bound for her taste. Nice face, but no softness there. It was almost too masculine. The blue eyes looked empty. Though he was handsome, she couldn't see the beauty. She put it aside and checked out the second photo. Black, tall, intense eyes. That beautiful ebony skin was intoxicating, not to mention the 10

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wavy washboard stomach. He stood against a wall, looking aloof. Too damned aloof. He knew he was gorgeous. That wouldn't do. The third didn't appeal at all. Too much of a muscle-bound beach bum for her; they were a dime a dozen in California. The fourth picture she withdrew made her hesitate before she tossed it aside. He was fair-haired with iridescent light blue eyes. His body was delicate, but with enough muscle tone to save him from being skinny. His features were soft. God, he was delicate ... so pretty. She couldn't stop looking at him. He was mesmerizing. He had a great cock. It was thick and long, not the kind of cock you'd expect to find on someone so slender and fine-boned. He was definitely worth a second look. The final picture was of a young Asian. He was handsome, but there was no fire in his eyes, no passion. She was just about to close the folder when something fluttered to the floor. As she bent down to retrieve it, she realized that it was a small black and white photograph, like a snapshot taken in one of those ubiquitous do-it-yourself photo booths. When she brought it up into the light, Amanda caught her breath. It wasn't a very good picture. It was creased and stained, but that couldn't detract from the fact that the face in the picture gripped her like none other she'd ever seen. The eyes looking at that crude camera in the photo booth were filled with fire and defiance. There was no cocky "look at me, aren't I gorgeous" look. Instead, there was an "I can take whatever you got, baby" kind of self-assurance. It was male, it was sexy, and it immediately made her hot. Here was that male beauty she was always looking for, the kind with this 11

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dark, dangerous fire that permeated dark eyes and the masculine features which carried just enough of a soft edge to be sensuous. The skin color was reminiscent of her Scott. It wasn't Black, but it wasn't white either. He was definitely biracial—White with the other half being either Hispanic or Black. There was some of Ciel in his eyes, and even a bit of Chase's vulnerability around the mouth. She had no idea what his body looked like, but she sure as hell intended to find out. When Jacques came back into the office more than thirty minutes later, Amanda was still studying that photograph. "See anything you like?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. Amanda didn't give him time to sit down. She passed him the photo. "Who is he?" Jacques took the picture. "He's not available." "I didn't ask you if he was available. I asked you who he was." "Hunter Reese." "Hunter. Suits him. Why isn't there a decent picture of him?" Jacques walked around to his desk and sat down. He kept the photograph. "He's a ... problem." Amanda laughed. "Really? How so?" "He's, ah ... well, he wouldn't suit you." "How do you know?" she asked curiously. "I see you kept that one out." Jacques inclined his head towards the picture Amanda had laid aside. Amanda narrowed her eyes. "Don't try to distract me, Jacques. You know that won't work. Why all the mystery around Hunter Reese?" 12

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"No mystery." He shrugged. "He's not ready for..." "You don't want to lose him just yet," she said, leaning back in the chair. He gestured with his hand. Amanda waited for an answer. Jacques took his time, picking up the decanter of wine and refilling her glass. "I want to see him," she said suddenly. Jacques sat the decanter back on the sideboard. "Amanda," he replied, meeting her eyes, "trust me. He's not a good candidate. That picture wasn't even supposed to be in there." "All the more reason. Then I consider it fate. You know I love a challenge, and no price is too high." She stood up. "Send him to me, and I will pay double the usual rate for one night." Jacques rubbed his chin. She narrowed her eyes. "Triple." "It isn't the price." "Then what?" "He's trouble, Amanda." "That's what you told me about Scott." "Hunter is not Scott. If I do decide to send him to you, it will be just for one night. You can't keep him." "I thought you said that was up to the boys." "It is," he acknowledged. "They are not enslaved to me. If they like your proposal and I get a decent return on my investment, they are completely free to choose. Did I stand in the way of Scott, or Cassidy and Chase?" 13

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"What is it about Mr. Reese?" She met his eyes, ignoring his question. "I prefer not to go into that at the moment," he said. "We'll start with one night then. When should I expect him?" "I really don't advise it." She gave him a faint smile. "I'm not really good at taking advice from men, but your advice is duly noted, Jacques. If it doesn't work out, I won't hold it against you. When will you send him?" "When do you want him?" He actually sighed. "Tomorrow night, nine o'clock." She opened her handbag and drew out her checkbook. "I'll check to see if he's available." "Make sure he's available. For what I'm paying you, someone else can wait." Jacques inclined his head. Amanda glanced at the other picture she had laid out on the desk, then clicked her pen. "Send him along too." She could suddenly imagine the two of them together and she unconsciously licked her lips. Larose stood up. "You want Reese to come with him?" "Yes. What's his name?" Amanda asked, leaning over the desk to fill out the check. "Ramsay." "Just Ramsay?" Jacques smiled. "He is of age, isn't he? He looks so young." "Of course. Nineteen." 14

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"Okay. How old is Reese?" "Twenty-two, but Amanda, may I suggest to you that..." He began to paw through the photos. She paused in her writing and glanced up at him. "Is there a reason Ramsay and Hunter shouldn't come together?" He shrugged. "It's just that I could recommend someone else more suitable to come with Ramsay tomorrow night." "For Christ's sakes, Jacques," she snapped, standing up straight now. "Come out with it! What's wrong with this guy?" "He's a little rough trade, that's all." Jacques held the folder between his fingers now. Amanda signed the check and ripped it off the booklet. She handed it to him. "Three times the price, times two." Jacques took the check and nodded. "Jacques, there's nothing wrong with a little rough trade," she said, picking up her bag again and taking out her cell phone. "I like it." She called her limo, then held out her hand to him. "I'll be in touch." He kissed her hand briefly, and escorted her to the limo. **** Amanda sat back against the seat of the car and closed her eyes. All this mystery surrounding Hunter Reese. She loved it. It made her even more anxious to meet him. Part of her suspected that Jacques just didn't want to share. She couldn't blame him, bless his dear hide. However, there was probably more to it than that. There always was. She knew for a fact that Jacques handpicked his boys. He often bragged that he had a boy for every taste, every peculiarity. She couldn't help 15

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but be curious about what Hunter had been chosen for. If his body was anywhere as gorgeous and raunchy as his face was, well ... Lord have mercy on poor little Ramsay. That made her smile. "One day, Amanda," Jacques had told her, "you are going to come up with a concoction that is going to be combustible, the way you put these men together." Oh God, Amanda thought, smiling to herself, I sure hope so. Jacques might have a knack for picking men, but she had a knack for putting them together and watching the fireworks. She regretted not swiping those two pictures and keeping them with her tonight just so she could study them. You could tell a lot about someone from a picture. When she got home, there was a message on her answering machine from Jordon. It said simply to call him back. It was weird having a relationship that bordered on normalcy with her brother after all these years. She was glad, really, on the one hand. He was the only family she had left now. But it could be trying. He was a man, after all. She checked the time. It was almost midnight in New York, but they were probably still up—in more ways than one. She made some tea, then curled up on the sofa, pressing in Jordon's number. After a few rings, a male voice said hello. She knew that voice. It was Chase's. "Well, hello there, beautiful," she said, smiling into the receiver. "I'm calling too late, aren't I?" "Amanda! No. We just finished watching a movie. How's it going?" "Okay, I guess. What's the weather like out there?" "Cold." 16

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"Aha. Should have stayed in L.A." "That's okay. I have Jordie to keep me warm." He laughed. "Um, that rat," she mocked. "Well, if he ever cools off..." "No chance of that," Chase replied. "I have no intention of allowing that." She smiled. "How's your job?" "I hate it. The boss is a bore." "Poor baby." "But," he sighed, "it's okay for now. I'm looking around." "Let Jordie support you. He's loaded." Chase laughed. "No way. He's far too good-looking, and far too bossy. He'd make me his slave." Amanda heard her brother protesting in the background, and she laughed. "Put the boss on, will ya? I suspect he wants to lecture me again." "No doubt. Okay, you asked for it," Chase said. "'Bye Mandy." "'Bye sweetie," she said. A second later, her brother's voice boomed into the receiver. "Why don't you return my calls?" "That's what I'm doing now, aren't I?" "Finally. So, what's going on? Why don't you come to New York? My birthday is coming up." "Yeah, I know. I can't now, but I will. I promise. How are you doing?" "Good, busy as hell, trying to keep up with Chase." She laughed. "I hope he gives you a hard time." "You would, wouldn't you? So, seeing anyone?" 17

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"Yeah, the caterer. I'm having a party for some friends next week." "That's not what I meant." "I know what you meant, sweet dear brother of mine. And the answer is no, none of your business, and let's change the subject. I don't know why you can't get it through that thick Nash head of yours that I like being on my own." There was silence. "Jordie?" "Yes, yes, I heard you ... Mandy." He laughed. She knew he hated it when she called him Jordie, although Chase seemed to be able to get away with it. "You haven't been back to that place where you..." He trailed off. "The place I found your Chase?" she threw back. "Must you remind me?" She could picture him rolling his eyes. "Actually if I had been back, I wouldn't tell you about it, now would I?" "Probably not," he grumbled. "So, what do you say, New York at the end of the month? You haven't even been to the new house." "Want to show off, eh?" "Of course," he said with a laugh. "The only thing you've got worth showing off is Chase, my friend, and don't you forget it. And you have your big sister to thank for that." "No argument there," he replied. "Finally something we agree on. I trained him good for you." 18

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"Fuck off, Mandy," he said, then laughed. "You just need to keep him in training." "Oh, no worries," he replied. "I am a Nash." She laughed. "If you don't come to New York, we're coming out there." "Fine. Call first," she said. "On my cell from LAX?" "Yeah, right. Jerk." After a few seconds, she said, "I wouldn't miss your birthday, darling. If we don't see each other, I'll send you something." He laughed again. "Okay, Amanda. I'm almost afraid. I gotta go. I think Chase is in the mood for some training." "Rub it in, why don't you?" "I love you, sis," he said suddenly, his voice softer. That always surprised her. She felt herself smile. "Yeah, yeah, sure. 'Night, Nash. Give Chase a big kiss for me; on second thought, you can give him..." "I'll use my imagination." Jordon chuckled. "'Bye." She said goodbye, and hung up. She would love to go out and see Jordon and Chase, but she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to stay there, knowing they were making love down the hallway. She still missed Chase. She'd been in love with him for a moment there, and when he'd finally left with Jordon, he had taken a piece of her with him. Early the next morning, she was awakened by Jacques's phone call. He apologized for rousing her. "I thought I'd call you before I left. I'm off to France for a few days. I've managed to secure the arrangements for this evening." 19

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"Splendid. Will they arrive together?" "No. Hunter is engaged elsewhere presently, but he's been informed of the time. Hopefully he will respect that." "Fine. I'll expect them then." "Bonne chance," he said, and hung up. **** At six o'clock, Amanda told all the staff to go. She put her driver on alert in case Jacques had not arranged a ride for her guests to go home. They were paid for until ten the next morning, but she probably wouldn't keep them all night. First impressions were very important and she spent a lot of time over her toilette. She finally chose a light burgundy dress in silk with a plunging neckline and a ruffled skirt which fell to the knee. Sheer black stockings and six-inch burgundy heels completed the outfit. She left her neck bare and added only a slim diamond bracelet at the wrist by way of accessory. Her shoulder-length reddish blond hair remained loose. She wasn't really nervous; after all, she had done this plenty of times. She was more impatient than anything. When one of Jacques's limos pulled up outside her house around five to nine, she parted the curtain beside the door. Her heart was thudding in her chest as the driver opened the door and a young man stepped out. He glanced around him and his soft fluttery ash blond hair brushed his shoulders. As he walked up the to the house, Amanda could see that he was wearing a pair of tight, faded jeans which hugged his slim hips and a clinging navy sweater with no sleeves which fell just above his navel. Amanda opened the door before he 20

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could reach it, causing him to take a step back. Those eyes, so light, so clear, made his face look like an angel's. "You must be Ramsay," she said, holding out her hand. Ramsay nodded, a faint smile on his delicate features. He took her hand, held it, then let it go. His skin was light, but not pasty; it had a porcelain look, almost like that of a china doll. She had never seen such beautiful skin. He turned slightly to wave at the driver, who shot away from the curb and was gone. "Come in," she said, studying him. His jeans seemed especially chosen to emphasize his slender form and the substantial package between his thighs. Ramsay stepped inside and took in everything around him, then he returned his gaze to her and said, "You have a lovely home, Amanda." "Thank you," she replied, taking his arm and leading him into the living room. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?" "Ah, no," he said, shaking his head. He settled down onto the sofa. He didn't seem nervous or shy. He was relaxed and, as Amanda was soon to discover, talkative. "I never drink before I visit a client because it interferes with my performance." "Ah," she said, turning to the bar and pouring herself some wine. She smiled. He was too sweet. There was a certain innocence about him that was very appealing. "We wouldn't want that." He shook his fair head. "No. Kind of defeats the purpose." He laughed lightly. "Are we waiting for someone?" 21

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Amanda turned around, surprised. "Didn't Jacques tell you about me? What I like?" "No," he said. "I was with a weekender ... that's what we call regular clients who see us on the weekend." Amanda nodded. "Jacques left me a message this afternoon, with your address. He's in France. It said to be here at nine. I knew you were a woman." He smiled. "I'm not used to servicing women. I have no objection, but..." Amanda put up a hand. "I know you prefer men." "Well, it's..." He wiggled a bit on the sofa. "Yes, I do, but..." Amanda smiled. "No worries. I'm a special request." "Oh?" He looked at her curiously. "That's okay because I don't judge that. You know, you pay and so you should get what you want." "Don't you have some things you won't do?" She was suddenly curious, given his last statement. "Jacques always informs the client that they're not to cause any permanent damage, or..." "Yes, I know the rules, but what about you? What won't you do?" He looked thoughtful. "There are things I don't particularly enjoy doing, but we're trained to do anything the client requires." "May I ask if Jacques trains you personally?" It had always been such a mystery. She'd asked Scott that question once and he had been very vague. 22

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He blinked. "We're not supposed to discuss our training," he said, then he lowered his voice. "I guess it doesn't hurt to tell you that Jacques oversees everything, but there is more than one trainer." "Oh, I see." Amanda had always suspected that. She also suspected that at one time Jacques had been a high-class escort himself. He had the looks and he had the manners, but she'd never dared asked him that personal a question. "Ramsay, I want you to know that if there is anything you don't feel comfortable with, you are free to tell me. I don't want you to do anything that you personally object to." "Thank you," he said politely, "but I'm here to please." He met her eyes. "I've done just about everything. And I have serviced women before in various circumstances, so..." "Well, Ramsay, actually you won't be..." She stopped, thinking she heard a car pull up. She checked the clock over the fireplace. It was twenty minutes after nine. Her pulse began to race. "Excuse me. I'll be right back." The doorbell rang just as she approached the door. She took a deep breath, touched her hair, and then opened it.

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Chapter Two Oh yeah, baby, was her first impression of Hunter Reese. God, she had good instincts. That picture didn't do him justice at all. He was all man, standing about six two with broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. He was big, and as she ran her gaze over the tight black leather pants he wore with the white T-shirt stretched over his taut muscular chest, she couldn't find an ounce of unnecessary fat on him. His hair was jet black with just the slightest curl to it, and hung almost to his shoulders. The eyes were a beautiful dark hypnotic brown. He looked White standing there under the light but as she stepped aside and told him to come in, the artificial light in the hallway brought out the deeper golden glow to his skin, which was not caused by any sun. Gorgeous. That soft mouth was practically the only vulnerable feature he had. And his hair; those black glossy locks looked as soft as silk. "You must be Hunter," she said. She was practically breathless. He didn't smile. Instead he met her eyes, narrowing his, and said in a deep, accented voice, "What the fuck. You're a woman." Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that's right," she said. "What kind of an accent is that?" "'Tis Jamaican," he replied, glancing around him absently. "You don't look Jamaican." "So I've been told. As much as many would have it otherwise, 'tis a fact. And you don't look like a dude either," 24

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he said, folding his arms across his chest. "What's the deal here?" "Please come in, Mr. Reese." He was just too much. She was feeling giddy. "You've been paid for, for the night, so you might as well come into the living room and sit down." "I don't do women, so sitting is all I'll be a doing, lady," he replied, following her down the hall. She stopped, turned around and let her gaze trail down over him. "If you have a big cock, well..." She paused, feeling more and more like her old self. God, she was out of practice, but her instincts ... oh Lord, they were still amazing. "My cock is staying put. I told you, madame, I don't do women." She grinned at him, and kept walking. When she got to the living room, Ramsay glanced up from where he'd been waiting patiently on the sofa. "Mr. Reese," she said, standing aside so that he could see Ramsay, "meet Ramsay. Ramsay, this is..." Ramsay was on his feet. "What's he doing here?" Amanda heard Hunter Reese snarl behind her. She glanced at Hunter, then at Ramsay. "Is there a problem?" "He's afraid of me," Hunter said, then laughed. The sudden, unexpected laugh startled Amanda. "I'm not afraid of him," Ramsay protested. "I just don't ... like ... him." Well, this was interesting. "You did say I wouldn't have to do anything I..." Ramsay began, then broke off. 25

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Hunter Reese walked further into the room. He strutted over to the fireplace, glanced at the bar, then at Amanda. "Going to offer me a drink, woman?" "Help yourself," Amanda said, her eyes on Ramsay. "Ramsay, could we talk in private?" He nodded. "Take the little girl and put her to bed," he said. "Past your bedtime isn't it, Ramsay?" He glanced over at him, picking up a bottle of whiskey. Ramsay walked past Amanda and out of the room. Amanda excused herself and followed him. In the hallway, she placed a hand on his arm. "Sweetheart," she said softly. "Do you and Hunter have a history?" "History? God damn his hide. We don't have any history, and we aren't going to have any history, either. I can't stand him. You don't expect me to ... with him, do you?" Amanda folded her arms across her chest. "Ramsay. You are making this very difficult. I have paid for..." Ramsay touched her arm. "I'm sorry. I'm behaving badly. Of course, I shall do whatever pleases you. Just let me, ah ... have a minute, okay? And maybe that drink." Amanda nodded. "Of course, but maybe if you explained to me what..." "I'd rather not, if you don't mind." "As you wish," Amanda said. "Please take your time. I'll go and talk to Hunter." "Good luck," he said. Amanda smiled and came back into the living room. "You like playing the big bad wolf, Mr. Reese?" 26

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He was sprawled in one of the chairs, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up at her with those sultry eyes. She felt the juices begin to flow between her legs. Damn. With only one look. He was good. "You think me a wolf now, do you?" "What's between you and Ramsay?" "Between us? Hah," he said, taking a swig of the whiskey, "nothing, little girl. Nothing at all. He's got a big imagination, that one. Now, what exactly are we suppose to be doing here tonight? I don't do women and Larose knows that, so obviously, I'm doing that whiner's ass. You like to watch, baby?" He stood up. How much of it was real and how much of it was for show, she didn't know. But his arrogance was clear in every move of his muscles, every inflection in his voice. She liked him. She liked him a lot, although he clearly didn't want people to. Amanda actually took a step back, that's how imposing he was. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him to make him that defensive. She wanted to know. She wanted to know everything about him. "You will do as I tell you with Ramsay. I call the shots. Is that clear?" "Oooh," he said mockingly. "A woman who knows what she wants." He held out his arms. "Bring it on." She swallowed, then took a breath. Oh, she'd bring it on, all right. "Upstairs," she said, turning around to see Ramsay enter the room hesitantly. "Didn't run away?" Hunter threw the words at Ramsay. Ramsay sighed. "I'm a professional." "Ah, that explains it then, man," he returned, eyeing Amanda. "Let's get this show going. Lead the way, woman." 27

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Amanda walked out of the room with Ramsay on her heels. Hunter took his time coming up the stairs, glancing around him, pausing to sip his drink once in awhile. When Amanda entered her bedroom, Hunter set his glass down and ran and jumped in the middle of her bed, spreading out his arms and legs. Amanda paused. "Not there," she said. "Come with me." Hunter groaned as he got off the bed. "Picky, isn't she?" he said to himself. Ramsay looked around the room in fascination as Amanda ushered both young men into her playroom. "Holy shit," he said, then glanced at her and smiled. "You're serious about this." "Yes," she said, "very serious. This is my playroom." Ramsay walked over and touched the various tables and restraints, studying himself in the mirrors. "What's in that big red chest with all the drawers?" he asked, walking over to it. "Toys," she said. "Lube, cock rings, condoms, nipple clamps, various things." She looked at Hunter to gauge his reaction. He was hovering by the door. Suddenly, propelling himself off the doorjamb, he walked into the room. "So, I take it you want me and girlie boy here to get it on in front of you," he announced callously. "Do you participate, or are you strictly a voyeur? I have no objection to a woman in the mix as long as there's a man involved"—he glanced at Ramsay through halflidded eyes ... "if you can call that a man." Ramsay reacted far more strongly than Amanda anticipated. He actually took a step towards Hunter. "Piss off, macho man!" 28

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Hunter threw back his head and laughed. "All right," Amanda said sharply. "I don't care what the issues are. I've paid for both of you. Now it's time for you to..." "I apologize, Amanda," Ramsay said, lowering his head. Amanda looked at Hunter, whose eyes widened innocently. He lifted his hands as if he wasn't sure what she was looking at him for, then smiled. **** Ramsay felt bad for this lady. She seemed nice enough, and she was a client. Jacques was never pleased to hear complaints, and Ramsay vowed that he'd never have to hear any about him. Over the last year, he had learned to be a good actor. He had to be. Had to smile when he felt like crying, had to be brave when he felt like running away. He was determined to hone his craft. He was a professional, something he could never be on the street. There was too much pain there, too much fear. He had it good at the Agency, nice clothes, nice place to live. He met important people, went to nice parties, ate exotic foods he'd never tasted before. Hell, he'd even traveled to Europe. One of these days one of his regular clients would want him to be his exclusively and he'd live out his days in luxury. There was no way in hell Hunter Reese was going to fuck all that up for him. Right now he was trembling all over, but there was no reason for this woman Amanda to know that. The fluttering was taking place in his stomach mostly. It was there he kept 29

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it, and there it did the most damage. That damn Hunter Reese would end up giving him another ulcer before the night was through. The woman was walking over to a padded chair in the corner. She sat down, raised the foot rest, and let her gaze trail over him, then Hunter. She looked like a queen on a throne suddenly. He gave her his most beguiling smile, then looked anywhere but at Hunter, who stood only a few feet away. "So," Hunter spoke, his voice booming throughout the room, "will you answer my question now, lady? Do you participate or is it only a spectator sport for ya?" "I rarely participate. I sometimes do touch, but mostly I enjoy watching men fucking. Among other things." Ramsay swallowed. She was a sympathetic woman, and seemed to like him. She had told him she wouldn't make him do anything which made him uncomfortable. She smiled gently at him now. If he could just make it through this night with Hunter with minimal damage ... "Amanda," he said in his softest voice, "will we be required to ... well ... there are things I prefer not to do with ... him." He threw a glance at Hunter, who simply threw back a mocking glare. "What I'd really like you to do right now, sweetie, is take off your clothes. Both of you," she said, looking at Hunter. **** Hunter pulled off his T-shirt without delay. He was undoing his pants as Ramsay slowly pulled his own shirt over his head. 30

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"I'm a little shy at the beginning," Ramsay said with a little laugh. "I know it's the first night, Ramsay," Amanda said. "Take your time." "It's all an act." Hunter growled, sliding the zipper down on his leather pants. "He's playing you, woman," he scoffed. "He uses those eyes and soft voice like weapons. He thinks they'll get him anywhere he wants to go." Ramsay licked his lips. He glanced at Amanda. "Don't listen to him. He's crazy." Amanda hardly heard the last words Ramsay said. Her eyes were focused on the descent of that zipper as Hunter pulled it down, then began to slide the leather pants off his hips. He wasn't wearing any underwear, which Amanda was grateful for. She couldn't have waited much longer without having a heart attack. Her panties were wet right through now. Hunter Reese took off his clothes quite casually, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on her. She could see his ass in the mirror behind him as he leaned over to yank his boots off. If there were prizes for asses, he would have won the blue ribbon—firm, round, an absolute delight, and his cock, big and thick even in its current semierect state. She squirmed a little in her seat as he stood up to his full height and looked her in the eye. She knew he must be used to a man's gaze, as he seemed rather surprised at the boldness of hers. She could tell because he shifted his weight a little. "Do you wake up hard?" she asked breathlessly. "Yes," he replied. 31

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"What excites your cock the most, having it sucked or having it stroked?" "Depends," he said, "on who's doing the sucking and the stroking." Amanda glanced at Ramsay. "You have a big cock. It's as beautiful as you are." Ramsay smiled. "Whose cock is bigger?" "We're about the same," Ramsay said without hesitation. Amanda narrowed her eyes. "You've been together before." No one said anything. "When?" She looked at Hunter. "I don't remember," he said. Ramsay gave Amanda a brilliant smile. "It was a long time ago and not significant." Amanda stood up. She walked over to Hunter and met his eyes. "Would you undo my dress, please?" He shrugged. Amanda turned around. He undid the zipper without touching her body. She let the dress fall to the floor, then walked back to her seat in her underwear and bra. When she was seated again with her legs up, she slipped her panties down and pulled the bra straps off her shoulders, lifting her heavy breasts out of the cups. When she looked up, she noticed that Ramsay was smiling at her. She returned that smile. He was a gentle, sweet soul on the surface, but there was a lot going on underneath, and Hunter, God, Hunter was a maze of emotion, a luscious puzzle to be figured out. But it would take time, and she knew she wanted that time. With both of them. 32

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"Ramsay," she said, running her gaze over his slender naked body, "I want you to suck Hunter's cock. Take your time, let me see you enjoying it. It's a succulent piece of meat and you haven't eaten in a long time." Ramsay nodded. He walked over in front of Hunter, but he didn't look him in the eye. He dropped to his knees. "What's your favorite meat, Ramsay?" Amanda asked, inserting her finger into her vagina and finding her nubbin. "Um," he said, running a finger down Hunter's cock. "I love ribs." "Well, that's the best ribs you're ever going to taste right there. And Hunter," Amanda said, her clit already so stiff she wanted to scream, "pinch those luscious nipples for me. Make them stiff and hard." Hunter ran his two palms over his stomach and up to his nipples. With his thumbs and forefingers, he began to pinch them while Ramsay began to slowly eat Hunter's cock. Amanda watched his face while she fingered herself. She saw the air escape from between his teeth, followed the movement of his head as it slowly fell back. Oh yes, so much lust and passion there, as strong as all his emotions. That passion went right though her, claiming her entire body, shaking her soul. Her tongue circled her lips, matching the progress of Ramsay's tongue as it slowly lapped up the sides of Hunter's hard, hungry cock. Hunter swayed a little on his feet, putting his hand on the mirror to steady himself. The other hand moved to Ramsay's hair. He clutched some and pulled, some little sound escaping from his throat. 33

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Lust was the great equalizer. There was nothing like a good cock-eating to reduce a man to his baser instincts, to make him tremble, beg even; and suddenly she wanted to see Hunter that way. She wanted to see the beautiful, delicate Ramsay, with his enormous cock now hard and standing erect, bring the big bad Hunter to his knees. Make him beg. A powerful orgasm rattled through her as that image appeared in her mind. There was nothing sexier than that, but it wouldn't happen tonight. "Swallow it," she told Ramsay now, recovering from the pleasurable feeling which engulfed her. "I want to see you take as much of him in your throat as possible. Let him come in your mouth. Can you?" She rubbed her nipples, noticing that Hunter's other hand was behind his back, clenched in a fist. Ramsay positioned himself so that he could open his jaw wider and he began to swallow. Although he couldn't take all of it, he took more of it than seemed possible and Hunter's hips began to pump. His face contorted into some beautiful mad symphony of pain and lust and pleasure and ecstasy, and he moaned, just one simple moan, long and deep, and Ramsay swallowed, not choking, Hunter's cum running down the sides of his mouth. Ramsay relaxed onto his back, closing his eyes, running his tongue around his lips to capture the excess as Hunter hissed something, swore and backed up against the mirror, his eyes closed. Ramsay looked at Amanda, giving her a smile as he ran a hand over his chest and stomach. When Hunter reached down 34

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and yanked him up against him, Ramsay struggled away. "No, don't," he said, backing up. "Hunter," Amanda said, "I didn't tell you to..." "What are you doing?" Ramsay demanded, glaring at him. "Don't touch me." Hunter shrugged, looking at Amanda. "Thought you wanted a show." "I call the shots, give the directions," Amanda said sharply. "I want to fuck. It's not the same unless I..." "Maybe Ramsay should fuck you," she said casually. **** Ramsay smiled. Oh, she was definitely on his side. Hunter relaxed back against the mirror. "You're paying, lady." He glanced at Ramsay, then turned around, posing provocatively against the mirror. Ramsay's eyes went to that gorgeous ass. He could almost taste him. He tore his eyes away. "You wish," he mumbled. Amanda stood up, putting on her underwear, then going to pick up her dress. Hunter turned around, surprised. "That's it?" "For tonight," she said. "That was easy money. Anytime, lady," Hunter chuckled, immediately starting to dress. Amanda came over and put a hand on Ramsay's shoulder as he too began to reach for his pants. "Are you all right?" Hunter glanced over at them suddenly and shook his head. "You're good, Ramsay, I'll give you that." He pulled on his boots, and walked out, his T-shirt dangling from his hand. 35

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Amanda was looking closely at him. "What does that mean?" "I'm good at, you know..." He smiled shyly. "I don't think that's what he meant." "Who knows what he meant," Ramsay said, throwing up his hands. "He's a nut job." Amanda walked downstairs with him. He looked around. Hunter had already left. "I hope you'll have me back. With someone else?" Amanda didn't reply. "I'll call my driver to take you home." "Thanks," he said. "I could call the agency if..." "Don't bother," Amanda said. "I'll call my driver. Just give him the address." She was studying him closely as she picked up her mobile. She waited with him until the car was brought around, then as he started out the door, Amanda said, "You're a mystery, you and Hunter. It's a mystery I'd like to solve." Ramsay lifted an eyebrow. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

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Chapter Three Amanda hardly slept all night. She was thinking of Hunter and Ramsay, not so much about them as individuals, but how they interacted. She wondered if Ramsay was afraid of Hunter. He was so delicate, and Hunter was rough trade all the way. Perhaps Hunter and Ramsay had been together at some other client's and Hunter had physically hurt him. She would have to proceed slowly, but that was all right. The fantasy she had of Ramsay sexually dominating Hunter was enough to spur her on. Good things come to those who wait. The next morning she called Jacques's cellular as she sat outside beside the pool and ate her breakfast. He'd said he was going to France, so there was no sense calling him at the mansion. There was no answer. She left a message. "Jacques, it's important. Call me." She put down the phone and poured herself some more coffee from the pot the new maid had left. The new girl was a little slow, but she made excellent coffee. **** Jacques didn't get back to her until the following week. It was six o'clock in the evening and she was checking over the various dresses in her wardrobe, trying to decide if she would use her season tickets for the symphony tonight when the phone rang. She picked up on the second ring, not waiting for one of the servants to get it. "Amanda here." "Hello, Amanda. Jacques Larose," he said. "I'm sorry it took so long to return your call. In the future, if it's an 37

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emergency, you can always call my secretary. He usually can fix you up temporarily." "This is not a temporary kind of situation," she said, closing her closet. To hell with the symphony. "How is France?" "I'm back in L.A., actually. Something came up and I had to cut my visit short." "Nothing bad, I hope." "Nothing I can't control. So, what can I do for you, ma belle?" "I want Hunter and Ramsay on a three-month trial." There was silence. "Jacques. I will pay you whatever you want." "That's very generous, Amanda. I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but I know firsthand that they won't agree. And I can't force them." "Let them hear my offer first." Silence again. "Jacques!" "Oui, je suis ici." "You may be there in body, but you're not answering me. Can we meet?" "Of course. I am pleased to meet with you anytime, Amanda." "Fine. You will tell me the price for both of them, and then I'll talk to them at the mansion, make my proposal. If they refuse, fine. If they agree, they're mine for three months." "I don't understand, Amanda, why you would want the trouble." 38

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"Is Hunter illegal?" "No." "He wasn't born here." "No, but his father is American." "Oh. Okay. I thought maybe it was the reason..." "Did it go all right, Hunter and Ramsay together?" "It was ... interesting. There was no bloodshed, if that's what you want to know." "That's good to hear." "What's the story?" "We'll talk later in person. Next week?" "Tonight." He chuckled. "Very well. Nine o'clock?" "Of course." "A bientôt." "Yes, see you later," she said and hung up. **** The same stoic-looking butler opened the door when Amanda arrived precisely at nine. He led her into a beautifully furnished living room this time and asked her if she would like champagne. She grinned. Only Jacques would have his servants offer guests champagne as soon as they walked in the door. "Yes," she said, "why not. It is a special occasion." Jacques came through the door from another room as soon as the butler left to get the champagne. He smiled when he saw her. He was dressed casually in designer jeans and a brown suede shirt open at the neck. In the intimate light of the room, he looked very young, and she was never able to 39

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look at him without thinking how wickedly handsome he was. As he came closer, the lines in his face became more prominent and the youth started to fade. "Amanda," he said, "don't get up." He reached down and kissed her on both cheeks briefly. "You've been offered a drink?" "Champagne," she said, laughing. "Yes, it's why I keep Franklin. He's not much to look at but he knows how to make my guests feel welcome." He took a seat in an identical leather chair opposite her and threw one leg over the other. The man called Franklin came back in and, with a bow, offered her the long-stemmed champagne flute on a tray. She took the glass with a nod, and he turned to Jacques. "Do you require anything, sir?" "Bring the bottle," he said, "and another glass. I wouldn't want my guest to drink alone." "Right away, sir," he said and disappeared again. Amanda raised her face to the ceiling as she took a sip of the champagne. Always the best. She wondered if Hunter and Ramsay were here and if Jacques had told them about her proposal. As if reading her thoughts, Jacques said, "I haven't spoken to them. I'll leave that to you." "They are here?" "Yes, I told them to wait for my instructions this evening." The servant was back. Jacques took a glass and told him to put the bottle on the table. "Close the door, Franklin. We won't be needing you anymore, right now." 40

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"Very well, sir." He nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him quietly. "This is a beautiful room." Amanda looked around. Everything was wood. The ceiling was sculptured, and the entire room smelt of leather. "Thank you." "It's a very masculine room." "It is." She met his eyes. "Please tell me about Ramsay and Hunter, what you know." "Like I said, Amanda"—he shook his head, taking a generous swallow of his champagne ... "I know very little. I can tell you that Ramsay came to me off the streets. He was a mess when I found him, half starved to death." Amanda winced. "Poor boy." "Yes." "And Hunter?" "Ramsay brought me Hunter." Amanda's eyes widened. "Really?" "Yes." He took his time drinking. "And?" Amanda persisted. He shrugged. "When I first saw him, I was very pleased. He's sinfully beautiful." "He is." Sinfully beautiful was the perfect way to describe him. "But as I got to know him, his personality is"—Jacques held his hand out, palm up, and then wobbled his hand back and forth ... "comme-ci, comme ça." "Where did Ramsay find him?" 41

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"No idea. He didn't say. I didn't ask." "How long ago was this?" "That Ramsay brought Hunter to me?" "Yes." "Oh, let me see." He entwined his fingers. "Ramsay has been with me over a year now. He brought Hunter to me about eight months ago." "And they were friends?" "It appeared so. They got along all right, and then suddenly, they didn't." Amanda narrowed her eyes. "They had a fight." "Not in my presence. They were close for about a week, that's it, and then this animosity developed. It's like they can't even be in the same room together." "And you were never told how Ramsay found Hunter?" "No." He shook his head. "Hunter is not a talker by nature, and Ramsay has told me nothing. I assumed that Hunter would tell me if he wanted me to know. He does his job. Sometimes the clients love him, and sometimes they don't. I have to be careful who I send him to." Amanda drained her glass. "You still want them?" "Definitely." He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. He leaned across and handed it to her. "If this is acceptable to you, you can make your proposal. I suggest you do it individually." She nodded, taking the paper and unfolding it. She winced. "This is ... ah ... steep." 42

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"Yes," he said. "Ramsay will be a big loss to me. He is very appealing, for a variety of reasons, to many of my clients, especially to those who like their boys, ah ... soft and sweet." He laughed. "And Hunter—are you giving him to me?" There was humor in her voice. "Not at all. Hunter is rough trade. He appeals to those with more, ah ... adventurous appetites ... the less sentimental. It's just that at the moment, my clientele tends to be more ... romantic in nature, or not bold enough to express their fiercer desires." She thoughtfully refolded the paper. "You may take some time to consider it, of course," he said. "That won't be necessary. I accept." She stood. His eyes widened, then he smiled, standing up with her. "Very well. If Hunter and Ramsay agree, they are yours for three months. They have the option to return to me if after three months you wish for them to leave you. If you send them back before, we can renegotiate, perhaps arrange for a partial refund." She shook her head, reaching for his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "If that happens, no refund will be necessary." "Very well," he nodded. "You can stay here if you like. I will send—which one would you like to see first?" "Ramsay, I think," she said, sitting back down. "I will send him down shortly," he replied, leaving the room. 43

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Amanda sucked in a breath. All this now depended on their answers. She grinned to herself, feeling a little giddy. She would have to do like the Godfather and make them an offer they couldn't refuse. About ten minutes later just as Amanda was about to finish her second glass of Dom Perignon, the door opened and Ramsay appeared, dressed in sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. He looked sleepy but sweet, like a little boy who'd just been awakened. "Hi," he said. "I'm sorry. I was sleeping, and I would have dressed, but..." "Come here," Amanda said, motioning to him. "You look fine." Ramsay gave her one of those disarming smiles and stood in front of her. "Please sit down," she said. "Do you want some champagne?" "No," he replied, taking Jacques's chair. "I have no head for it." "Oh," she said, smiling. She couldn't help smiling when she saw him. He had such a gentle spirit. "Ramsay, I'll get right to the point. How would you like to come and stay with me for a little while?" "Stay with you?" "Yes. You could live at my house. I'd give you whatever you wanted, whatever you needed." "Why?" He narrowed his eyes. "Because as you know," she said, meeting his eyes, "I enjoy watching men together and I like to keep my boys close." 44

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"Boys?" "Yes." "Plural?" "Yes," she laughed. "I would like Hunter to join us." Ramsay practically jumped out of the chair. "Ah ... well then, count me out. I'm not living with Hunter." "But you live with him now," Amanda said, titling her head. "Yeah, but I hardly have to see him. This place is big and..." "Ramsay, do you mind if I ask you why you're reacting this way? I mean, has Hunter hurt you in some way? Is he cruel to you?" He opened his mouth, then closed it. "I prefer not to be with him, that's all." "Ramsay," Amanda said. "Do you realize what you'd be passing up? I'm a very wealthy woman. I would only expect that once in awhile, maybe a few times a week, you indulge me with Hunter. That's all. You could do what you wanted on your down time. Maybe we'd travel some. I'd buy you a car, a new wardrobe, get you a personal trainer. You could take courses if you wanted. You'd always have money. I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime. You could leave whenever you wanted, although I'm asking you to stick it out for three months. After that, if you hate it, you're free to leave, to come back here if you like." "What did Hunter say?" "I haven't talked to him yet. Ramsay, I won't let Hunter hurt you in any way. You have nothing to be afraid of. If he does something inappropriate, I'll ask him to leave." 45

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Ramsay looked down at the floor. "Will I always be with Hunter?" "Mostly, but sometimes I might find another to join you, or ... depends on my mood." She smiled. "Please, think about it." "I will," he said. "Can I give you my answer tomorrow?" "Of course." She watched him leave after saying a quiet goodbye. She was deep in thought when Hunter walked in. Why was Ramsay so afraid of him? "Hello," he said, walking over to the chair opposite and placing a hand on it. He didn't sit down. Dressed in jeans and a studded black leather jacket, he looked like he was on his way out. "Hello, Hunter," she said, giving him the once-over. "Are you going somewhere?" "Actually, yes," he said. "I have a client waiting, but Jacques told me to stop here first. I'm surprised to see you." "Why?" He shrugged. "Just am. What's all the mystery?" "Hunter, why is Ramsay so afraid of you?" His dark eyes narrowed. "Afraid?" "Yes, he seems terrified of you. Did you ever ... hurt him in some way?" He laughed harshly. "I tied him up and raped his ass once, if that's what you mean." She was speechless for a moment. "Woman," he said, the accent more pronounced suddenly, "I'm bullshitting you." Amanda took a breath. "Nothing to bullshit about." 46

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He shrugged, looking dark and dangerous suddenly. "Happens all the time." "I want to propose something to you." "You want to marry me?" He grinned. "I won't be much use to you in the bedroom." She had to laugh. He was teasing her. "No, I don't want to marry you. I want you to come live with me for three months. I'll give you everything you want." "What in hell for?" "To amuse me ... you and Ramsay. After three months, if you're not happy, you can leave, come back here and..." She was tense. Her voice had taken on a pleading tone as she did her best to sell him on the idea. She didn't want to stop talking, because she was sure she'd hear him say no. When his deep voice said, "Sure," Amanda's jaw fell open. She had expected an argument, a flat-out refusal. "Sure?" she echoed. "Meaning yes?" "Why not? It sounds easy, more secure, financially profitable. Say when?" "Well." She smiled, sitting back. "We have to talk Ramsay into it." "He'll come. It's right up his alley," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me," he said as he checked his watch, "I got to go. I'm late. See you." He lifted a hand and sauntered out. When Jacques walked back in, she was standing at the window, looking outside onto the huge well-lit tennis court without really seeing it. She turned around when she heard him say her name. "Did it go all right?" he asked. 47

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"Not exactly as I expected." "I see." "Ramsay will tell me tomorrow. Oddly enough, Hunter jumped at it." Jacques threw up his hands. "I've given up trying to predict what Hunter will do. I am surprised at Ramsay. I'll talk to him." "Thank you." "We can settle the money situation when the arrangements are final," Jacques said. That was it. Amanda called her driver and left the Agency. She was wondering what she would do if Ramsay turned her down. Did she want Hunter without Ramsay? Yes. It wouldn't be so easy to find a replacement for Ramsay, but maybe Jacques would have a suggestion. She hadn't even seen his boys in Europe yet. When the phone rang the next evening, she picked it up with anticipation. It was Jacques. "Amanda," he said. "When shall I send them?" Amanda smiled, her heart fluttering. "Tonight. Send them tonight. I'll have your check delivered by courier tomorrow." "D'accord. Enjoy," he said, and hung up.

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Chapter Four Amanda found herself wishing she had had Jacques send the boys to her the next night. She was still scrambling around directing the maids to prepare this and that when they both arrived on the doorstep. When the maid fluttered upstairs announcing them, Amanda was just finishing her makeup. "Are the rooms prepared?" she asked, carefully applying the last coat of mascara. "Yes, madame." "Show them to their rooms and let them settle in. Then you can go, Clarissa." Clarissa was new, and she was just too curious. Amanda patted her hair, which she had swept up and pinned with a diamond clip. She changed her blouse a second time. A red silk blouse replaced the mauve one, and topped off a pair of expensive designer jeans with six-inch sling-back pumps. She was ready. She stopped first at Hunter's room. He had thrown his battered duffel bag in the corner, and was sprawled on the bed when she knocked on his open door. "Yeah, come in," he invited. "Hey," she smiled. "How do you like your room?" "It's great," he told her. "The shower is wow!" "Yes. Feel free. You can come downstairs if you like. Are you hungry?" 49

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"No, Jacques had a big dinner for us. I'd like a drink, though." "Can do that," she said. "I'm going to see Ramsay. Have a look around." "All right," he said with a grunt, getting off the bed. Amanda walked down the hall. Ramsay's door was closed. She knocked. "It's me," she said. Ramsay opened it. "Hi," he said, stepping aside. A designer suitcase sat on the bed. He had started to hang up his clothes. "Is your room all right?" "It's fine. Thanks." "Are you all right?" "Fine." He gave her a smile. "What are we doing tonight?" "We'll have a drink together downstairs. See where the night leads us. No pressure." "Okay," he said. "I'll be down in a minute." "I want to give you the grand tour," Amanda said. She reached over and hugged him. "I'm glad you're here." He smiled again, and Amanda left him. Hunter was downstairs with a drink in his hand when Amanda arrived. The new girl Clarissa was just standing around, obviously enjoying the view, and with those black spandex pants he was wearing with the open white shirt, there was a lot of view to enjoy. His black hair curled loosely over his forehead tonight, and with those dark eyes, he looked like a pirate. "Clarissa"—Amanda spoke gently; she couldn't blame the girl for being spellbound ... "you can leave now." 50

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"Y-yes." She bobbed her head then, looking at Hunter again, she said, "Good night, Hunter." "Good night, lovely lady." He winked at her, and she practically swooned as she danced from the room. Amanda smirked. "So you can be charming." "I can be anything you want me to be," he replied, lifting an eyebrow. "That's good to know," Amanda said, running her gaze over him. He winked at her. She laughed. "You like to play the wicked boy." "I am the wicked boy," he growled, then threw the liquor to the back of his throat. Ramsay entered, glancing once at Hunter, then dismissing him. He took Amanda's arm, hopping a little like an excited boy. "I'm ready for my tour." "I was going to ask you, Amanda," Hunter interjected, "am I to be expected to have the same, ah ... menu for three months, or will there be some variety?" Ramsay released Amanda's arm. "Yes, I know what he means." He glanced at Hunter. "There's only so much of that type I can stomach." Hunter turned his back. "Okay boys, you just got here. Play nice," Amanda scolded. "I won't let you get bored, don't worry. Come on. Let's see the house." They ended up out by the pool. The stars were shining bright in the night sky, and there was a warm breeze. "I 51

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asked Clarissa to make up a pitcher of margaritas. How about it, boys?" "You know I can't drink," Ramsay said, looking at the pool. Hunter stripped off his shirt. "Oh, come on, Ramsay, when you drink, you're almost human. Almost. Is it heated?" He looked at Amanda. "Of course," she said absently, her eyes on the rippling muscles of Hunter's back and chest. He began to pull his pants down over his hips and Ramsay moved over to one of the chairs, passing some comment to Hunter she didn't quite hear. Amanda didn't move. She stood perfectly still holding her breath until Hunter stood there completely naked. When he went to jump into the pool, she suddenly said, "Don't." "Oh," he said. "I can't swim in it?" "Yes, you can," she said, "but not yet. I want to look at you for a minute if you don't mind." He grinned at her, moving slowly around in a circle. "Knock yourself out, woman." "Jesus Christ," she breathed. The way the moonlight bathed his body, he was just about perfect. Smiling, she said suddenly, "Go ahead. Take a swim." She walked over and sat near Ramsay as Hunter dived in the pool. "He's got an incredible body." "Yes," Ramsay said, his head back, eyes closed. "He does." "Whatever it is about Hunter you can't stand, I want you to ... well, objectify him. Can you do that?" He opened his eyes. "I would if I knew what it meant." 52

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She laughed, pouring herself some of the ice-cold drink. "Think of him only as a body. Just as a sexual object. A toy. Not real." He smiled at her. "Okay." That's all he said, and Amanda wasn't sure what he was thinking. He'd accepted her suggestion a little too easily. Amanda handed Hunter a towel as he crawled up out of the pool, water running deliciously over his chest, water from his shiny black hair dripping down his muscular biceps. He was almost too irresistible at the moment. She handed him a drink as he wrapped the towel around his waist and sat down beside her. As he swallowed, he let his thighs drape open and it was obvious that his cock was hard, because she could see the tantalizing rise in the towel. She cleared her throat. Oh, she wanted. She needed to see Ramsay take care of that erection right now. Actually, she would have liked to see Hunter spread out right there beside the pool with Ramsay licking every inch of his succulent hard body. "Would you mind"—she cleared her throat ... "getting rid of that towel, Hunter?" She licked her lips as she finished her second margarita. He lifted an eyebrow, then stood. "Whatever the lady's pleasure," he replied, hooking a finger in the towel and letting it fall to the ground with one tug. His erection was inches from her face, hard, standing straight up between muscular thighs. Her gaze caressed it. She glanced over at Ramsay, whose eyes were suddenly focused on the same place. "I instructed Ramsay earlier to objectify you." Amanda looked up and met Hunter's eyes. His expression was 53

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unreadable as he stood there waiting. "Ramsay," she said, "he's yours. Your sexual plaything; do what you want." Ramsay cleared his throat. "Can I call him by another name?" "Oh, for fuck's sake," Hunter muttered. "It's only a game, Hunter." Amanda grinned. "What should we name him?" "Hazard," Ramsay said. Amanda quirked an eyebrow. "Interesting choice. And what do you want to do to Hazard?" "Here?" "Yes, no one can see. We're surrounded by trees. Tell me," she urged, undoing the buttons on her blouse. "I want to..." He paused. "I want to bite his tits right now, wrap my fist around his cock ... feel it in my hand, feel it in my mouth ... my ass." He stared into Hunter's eyes. "Do it," Amanda said. "Hunter, lie down right there on the patio." She dipped her hand into one of her bra cups and found her nipple. Hunter got down on the ground and laid on his back. Ramsay arose from his chair, practically knocking it over. He knelt beside Hunter as Hunter pushed up on his elbows and watched him. Ramsay very aggressively knocked him back down. He glanced at Amanda. "I want to tie him up." Amanda grinned. Little devil. A man after her own heart. "Let's go to the room, then." Amanda led the way, Ramsay on her heels, Hunter lagging behind. In the playroom, Amanda noticed that Hunter was 54

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still hard, and she could now see Ramsay's erection quite plainly. "Take off your clothes, Ramsay." While he did, Hunter stood in the corner, his cock in his hands. "Don't touch yourself," Amanda told him. He lifted his hands in the air defensively, and put them at his sides. Amanda showed Ramsay the equipment. "There are the overhead cuffs, and the shackles for the ankles. You can use the pulley, spread him out, or there's the table. Ankle to wrist, wide open, giving you complete access." Amanda felt her juices flow between her legs already. "This drawer," Amanda said, "contains tit clamps, anything you want. Use your imagination. And Hunter," she said as she turned to him, "Ramsay is going to treat you like a sex toy. He's going to use your body any way he chooses." Hunter ran a tongue over his lips. "Bring it on," he said softly. "Too bad he doesn't have the imagination for it." Ramsay met his eyes defiantly. "We'll see, stud." Amanda stripped off her clothes and got up into her chair, lifting the footrest. She spread her legs while she rubbed her breasts aggressively. **** Ramsay pointed to the table, and told Hunter to get up on it. He brought the overhead cuffs over and positioned them above Hunter. He pulled up one of his arms, then the other. Next he yanked the ankle cuffs up from the table edges and fastened one of his legs, then yanked the other leg and 55

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fastened that one. Glancing around the table, he discovered the levers on each side which lowered the bottom half of the table so that he could easily have access to his anus. He left him like that for a minute, trying his best to take it slow. His cock was throbbing, and he focused on Hunter, trying to do exactly as Amanda had suggested. Hunter was just an object, a toy, an instrument of pleasure. Nothing more. He went to that toy chest and took out a ball gag. He didn't want to hear Hunter's voice. He found nipple clamps. They looked severe. Umm, a studded collar, too sexy. He took that too. First Ramsay fitted the ball gag in his mouth. Hunter met his eyes for a minute, the expression clearly unperturbed. Ramsay knew, given some of Hunter's clients, that this was like elementary school to him. Ramsay slid the collar around the other man's neck and fastened it. It had a neat little chain to pull on. He pulled the chain back, watching all that black, glossy hair tumble down his back. Ramsay's cock jolted. He spread some nice-smelling lube on his thumbs and slowly began to circle Hunter's nipples. God, they were stiff, and so delectable. He wanted to bite them. Later, after the clamps did their work. He pinched one, trying not to notice the way Hunter's body was slowly undulating. He pinched again. Hunter made a slight sound through his gag. Ramsay applied the clamp, running the chain across his chest and then clamping the other nipple. "God," Ramsay breathed. The chain looked so sexy hanging between his well-defined pecs. "I want your ass." With the lube in his hand, he moved down between his legs. He reached up and pulled on the nipple chain, then took 56

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it in his teeth, meeting Hunter's dark, tormented eyes. Hunter was hot. He was so hot. He would plead for it if he took that ball gag off. All his. He was all his in this moment. He couldn't feel Amanda anymore. She had disappeared from his mind. Ramsay pushed one slippery finger up inside of him. Hunter's ass gripped his finger, and held on. Ramsay pulled again on that chain with his teeth and roughly began to finger fuck him, his other hand tormenting Hunter's cock which was slick with his own juices. He wouldn't look in his eyes. He was just an object, just an object, a toy to play with ... to give him pleasure. **** Amanda came several times, the last time when Hunter shot his load straight up in the air. Then she waited, but Ramsay didn't do what she expected. Instead, he walked over to the corner and jerked himself off. It didn't take long. He had been more than ready. He fell back against the wall and closed his eyes in relief. "Ramsay," Amanda said, "get Hunter out of that, would you?" Ramsay nodded. He walked over and quickly released Hunter's wrists and ankles, allowing Hunter to take off the gag, collar, and clamps by himself. "Hunter, you can go. I'd like to talk to Ramsay alone, please." "Sure. I'm going to bed," he said. He casually picked up the towel and sauntered out. 57

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Amanda waited for a few minutes, doing up her blouse. "That was pretty hot," she said, glancing over at Ramsay. She reached for her jeans. "Thanks," was his reply. "But you didn't fuck him." "Did you want me to?" He looked distressed. "Not necessarily. I'm just surprised, that's all." She pulled on her pants. "Don't you like to do that? I thought I heard you say you wanted his ass." "I prefer to have it done to me, really, but not by him." "Okay. Did you ever ... I mean, did Hunter fuck you before?" He shrugged, and looked down at the floor. It was clear he didn't want to answer. "Why don't you go off to bed now?" "Good idea." "It wasn't that bad?" "It was okay, but if you want something specific, tell me, okay?" "I will," she said, watching him, as he walked across the room and picked up his clothes. "Can we sleep in?" "Sleep in as late as you like," she told him with a smile. A few minutes later, Amanda decided to go downstairs and pick up the half-empty pitcher she'd left by the pool. The light was off in Ramsay's room, but Hunter was still up. She could hear him rummaging around. She paused and almost knocked on his door, but changed her mind. He was probably just 58

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putting away his stuff. She'd give him some space for a few days. **** Hunter paced. He really thought he could handle this, coming here, but maybe it had been a mistake. If only it could have been anyone else but Ramsay. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair. It was still damp from that dip he'd taken in the pool. His knees were aching suddenly. He'd tried to lie still, but the pain got worse when he didn't move. Weird, they usually only ached when it was cold. It wasn't cold. Maybe it had been the swimming or the way Ramsay had pulled his legs apart. He sighed and parted the window curtain. Amanda wasn't a bad soul. He could do this. He squeezed his eyes tight and took a deep breath. He needed a cigarette, although he'd vowed to give them up. He wished he hadn't thrown his pack away the other day. Finally, he crawled onto the bed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his legs. A few hits of grass usually did it, but he was all out. He'd get some tomorrow. He prayed for sleep, sleep free of the nightmares. He prayed for peace, a few hours of freedom from the memories. Maybe the memories would fade here. Or maybe they'd never go away. **** The next morning Ramsay sat eating a huge bowl of cereal out by the pool. The maid had offered to bring him anything 59

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he wanted, but cereal hit the spot. It was very hot today, and he'd started his morning by wading in the pool. He'd practically fallen asleep there. When he heard footsteps, he looked up to see Hunter. He wore nothing except for a pair of cutoff jean shorts. It looked as if he had just stepped out of the shower, but with his hair being so shiny, it was sometimes hard to tell if it was wet or not. He dug his spoon into the huge mixing bowl again and began to chomp on the cereal, watching the little O's swimming around in the milk. "Are you going to say something to me, or pretend I'm not here?" Hunter said suddenly. "Pretend you're not here," Ramsay replied with a mouthful of cereal. This was met with soft, deep laughter. The maid appeared suddenly. "Can I get you anything else, sir?" she asked politely. "Coffee," he said. "Bring a pot, in fact, with milk. Not cream, too fattening." "Right away, sir," she said. "You're right in your element, aren't you, Ram?" Hunter tossed the words at him as he came to stand closer to the pool. Ramsay glared over at him. "You promised," he hissed. "You promised to be good." "Good?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Give it a rest, Hunter. Not here." Ramsay felt his heart thud in his chest. 60

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"Don't worry," he said with a sneer, "we won't let nothing interfere with this nice little setup, man. If anyone fucks this up, it won't be me." "What's that supposed to mean?" Ramsay demanded, meeting his eyes. "Amanda is going to expect far more, I think, than you're willing to put out ... pardon the pun. What'cha going to do then?" "I'll do what I need to do. I'm a pro." "You're a pro, all right," Hunter's eyes glinted dangerously. "I remember a vow you made not too long ago. What was it now?" His words were laced with sarcasm. "It doesn't count for work." Ramsay stood up. The maid came out with the coffee. "Take it inside," he said. "I don't like the company out here." The maid bobbed her head and turned back around. Ramsay headed for the patio door. When a hand snaked out and wrapped around his forearm in a steel grip, he froze. He clamped his teeth together when Hunter moved up close to his back. He could feel his breath on his neck. "Let me go," Ramsay urged. His voice lacked conviction. "I've already done that, pro," Hunter said. "I've let you go." Ramsay staggered forward a little as Hunter released him, then proceeded to practically run through the patio door and into the dining room where his coffee sat waiting for him. ****

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In the hallway, Amanda chatted on her mobile. She could see Ramsay sitting at the table drinking coffee. She had wanted to take Ramsay and Hunter out shopping today, but it would have to wait. Her stockbroker was on the line trying to talk her into selling some stock. "Send the portfolio by courier," she said. "I want to check it over first. What's the window again?" A pause. "Twenty-four hours? I'll get back to you tonight." She disconnected and walked into the dining room. Ramsay had that expression again, the one which made him look far away, alone. When she spoke to him, he didn't respond right away, then that beguiling smile of his made its way back onto his young face. "Sorry," he said, "didn't see you there." "Where's Hunter?" she asked. "Still sleeping?" "Out by the pool," he said. "Want coffee?" "In a minute. I've been on the bloody phone half the morning. You boys will have to fend for yourself today, I'm afraid. I have paperwork to do, and a party to plan." "Are you having a party?" "Yes. Saturday night. Some close friends. I want you and Hunter to meet people. I can't keep you all to myself. I'll be back, going to say hello to Hunter." Hunter was sitting in a lounge chair by the pool, his eyes closed. He looked beautiful in the morning sun. She admired his contoured chest and the flat waves of his stomach for a minute, pausing at the bulge in his jean shorts. "Good morning, Hunter." He opened his eyes. "Hello, lady," he said. 62

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"It's quite charming the way you keep calling me 'lady,' but could you manage Amanda?" "Amanda," he said, shielding his eyes against the sun with his hand as he peered at her. "Won't you come in for coffee?" "If you insist." "I don't insist but I'd like you to join us." He shrugged and got up out of the chair. She was surprised when he took her arm. He stood aside and let her enter the house. When they arrived at the dining room, Ramsay was gone. The maid brought them fresh coffee. Hunter laced his with cream and sugar, and Amanda took hers black. "Were you brought up in Jamaica?" "Yes," he said, sipping his coffee. "It's beautiful there. Do you miss it?" "No," he replied. There was suddenly a hard edge to his voice. Amanda's eyes widened. "I see." "Do you mind, dear lady, if we change the subject?" "No, of course not." She cleared her throat. "I want to take you and Ramsay shopping, but I can't today. Maybe tomorrow. I'm having a party Saturday night, and..." "You want some pretty trimmings for the party," he said with a wink. She laughed. "Something like that. Is there something you want, Hunter?" "What do you mean?" 63

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"A car, a computer, a personal trainer? I want you to be happy here." "I'll give it some thought," he said. "I'll be providing you and Ramsay with a bank account. You need to have your own money." He drained his cup. "There's much I need, Miss Amanda." He sounded so Jamaican all of a sudden. She could picture him on the island doing all kinds of exotic things. "You are too sexy for your own good, Hunter." He laughed. "I'll try to remember that, woman." She reached over and touched his hand. "I want you to be comfortable with ... everything." He nodded. She paused. "Ramsay is afraid of you. I've figured that much out." "Um." He nodded, then stood up. "And with good reason." Amanda stiffened. "Did you hurt him? Did you threaten him in any way, Hunter, because..." "You keep asking me the same question. You be needing to ask him." "He doesn't want to talk about it." "That I believe," he said with a nod. "And you're not going to enlighten me, either." "I promised not to talk about it, to him or anyone, and I'm a man of my word," he said. "All right." She nodded. "I'll just have to accept that, then." "You will if you want us to stay," he replied, matter-of-fact. 64

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His directness surprised her at times. It was just the way he was, and it drew her to him. Amanda reached out and touched his hand. "I do. I do want you to stay."

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Chapter Five The next two days were busy for Amanda. She sent her response back to the broker. She wasn't quite ready yet to let go of those stocks, and she made the last minute arrangements with the caterer for Saturday night. Finally on Friday, she told Ramsay and Hunter that they were going shopping. Neither of them put up a fuss about it. They seemed to have settled into the house. She didn't really know what they had been doing every minute the last two days, but she did know that, whatever it was, they hadn't been doing it together. In the chauffeured car, Ramsay sat on the right side next to the window, and Hunter sat on the left. Neither of them said a word the whole way. Tonight, she planned to bring them together for a little fun. She hoped they were still speaking to each other. Once they got in the shops, Ramsay acted like a little boy. He wanted to try on everything and he had expensive taste. Hunter, on the other hand, took a mild interest in a few items, but for the most part, stood around waiting for them to finish shopping. After shopping, they went to a beauty center. Both men got haircuts and shaves, and Ramsay went for a massage, while Hunter opted for a sauna. It was after eight when they entered one of the exclusive little French restaurants Amanda loved. Hunter didn't seem to like the food much, but he ate it. 66

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Ramsay said everything was "delightful." He looked really happy, and he was talkative on the way back home in the car. The driver brought everything up to their rooms, and Amanda suggested drinks upstairs in her room. "You want us tonight, Amanda?" Ramsay asked, his expression hard to read. "Yes. You're not too tired?" He shook his head. "I'll be right there." Hunter followed Amanda to her room and sprawled on one of her lounge chairs near the bed. She asked him what he wanted to drink. "Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine. You're a generous lady, Amanda." Amanda poured herself a scotch, and then sat down in one of the chairs opposite him. "Thank you." "It doesn't bother you?" "What doesn't bother me?" Amanda asked, glancing at him. God, he was good-looking. "Buying men, like objects." She paused, meeting his eyes over her glass. She wasn't sure if she should be peeved or not. "Is that what I do?" "I think so. It wasn't necessary to give me all that money today, although I appreciate it. I haven't had a bank account in a while." She shrugged. "It gives me pleasure to do that. As for buying you, like an object ... well, you sell yourself. You put yourself out there as an object. A beautiful one, at that." "Are you angry at me?" He smiled at her. 67

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"How could I be angry at you, Hunter? You're far too gorgeous. I just want you to understand that we're meeting each other's needs here. It's the law of supply and demand. I provide you with something you need, and you..." "But Amanda, don't you want...?" He sat forward, elbows on his knees, his face earnest. "You're exactly what I want," she insisted, putting down her glass, "and I want it now. So, where is that Ramsay?" "I'm here," a voice said suddenly. She looked up to see him standing hesitantly by the door. "Come in. Close it." He walked over to where she sat, bent down, and pecked her cheek. "What was that for?" The kiss pleased her. "All you did for me today. I had a fantastic day. I ... wanted to thank you." "I'll show you exactly how you can thank me," Amanda said, standing up. "Come on. Both of you. I've been more than patient, I believe." She could feel her own sexual arousal as she entered the playroom, Hunter and Ramsay behind her. She opened her silk blouse and took it off, throwing it over the top of the toy chest. Next she unzipped her skirt while the two men watched. "I've tried to give you some time to adjust. I've not been too demanding, have I?" Ramsay shook his head. Hunter didn't bothering answering. He just waited.

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"So, tonight be the pros that you are. Seduce me by seducing each other. Hunter"—she licked her lips ... "let's mix a bit of fantasy with reality." "Tell me what you want," he replied quite casually His response reminded her that most of the hesitation had been coming from Ramsay, not him. "You want Ramsay. He is playing hard to get. You might have to use some force while you get him to see things your way." She smiled, then looked at Ramsay. "I'm sure you can play the role, Ramsay." It was devious, but she had needs, and tonight she intended to get a little return on her investment. "Shouldn't be too hard a role for him to play," Hunter mused. Ramsay glared at him. "No, and if you're going to take me, it will have to be by force." Amanda lifted an eyebrow. She wasn't sure any more how much of this was real, and how much was for show, but she was liking it. She was liking it a lot. "Oooh, thatta boy." **** Hunter watched Amanda as she picked out her special vibrating toy and went to sit up on what he was coming to dub her "throne." He was quite pleased at her change in attitude. Ramsay was clearly manipulating the situation, getting his own way. It was time someone put him in his place. At the moment, Ramsay was standing a few feet away from him, his hands on his hips, that stubborn chin of his looking quite ridiculous the way it was sticking out on that soft, baby sweet face of his. Hunter laughed. He had been 69

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given carte blanche to take him, and Ramsay, even if he was being sincere, underneath he had to be surrendering. He had no damn choice. God, this was fucking beautiful! Hunter was so totally turned on. Hunter noticed that Ramsay's chest heaved as he undid his shirt and threw it aside. "How about this, Hunter?" Amanda wiggled down on her seat. "Ramsay is your newly bought sex slave, a defiant one, and you, Hunter, are the master who is determined to ... break him in?" Hunter narrowed his eyes as he glanced over at her. He had never met a woman with such a vivid imagination or ferocious appetite. One of the reasons he was never attracted to women, aside from the fact that he was unquestionably gay, was that they never seemed to know what they wanted in bed. They always waited for men to take the lead; but not her, not Amanda. He liked her. She was a woman after his own heart, and if he ever had to fuck any woman, it would be a woman like that. Hunter allowed Ramsay to sweat it out a bit. He could see the tension pulsing in his jaw as he approached. He reached out and grabbed him by a fistful of his T-shirt. "On your knees, boy," he growled. He pressed him down to the floor with one hand. Ramsay was no match for him. Ramsay glanced up at him with those eyes. Hunter grabbed his hair. "Undo my pants and suck my cock. I want you to make it hard. You understand?"

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Ramsay nodded. Hunter noticed how the hands trembled as Ramsay undid the snap on his jeans, then slid down the zipper. Hunter slapped his hands away and took his own pants down. He hadn't bothered with underwear today. He grabbed Ramsay's head and pressed it between his thighs. "Go at it, slave," he told him, glancing over at Amanda to see if she was enjoying the show. She was. Ramsay's tongue dipped out and touched his cock, which already was hypersensitive. It gave a jolt and he relaxed his hold on Ramsay's head so that he could go to work on it. Hands came around to clutch his ass cheeks, but he yanked them away. "I didn't give you permission to touch my ass." Ramsay clutched his fists at his sides. His tongue licked the shaft with long laps, not unlike how a cat would lap at milk. A hand wrapped around Hunter's calf, nails digging into his flesh. Hunter smiled softly. It was getting to him. He stepped back. "Go and lie up there on that table, on your back, and let your head hang over the side." Ramsay got up off his knees. "And strip. Take those clothes off," Hunter breathed, running his gaze over Ramsay. Ramsay pulled the T-shirt over his head, then undid his pants. Totally naked, he walked over to the table and got up on it, letting his head hang over. Hunter watched Ramsay closely as he approached him. Hunter walked around the table and reached up for the ankle cuffs which were suspended overhead, and pulled on them. 71

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Lifting one of Ramsay's legs up and out, he attached the ring, then did the same to the other. Hunter grinned as he saw Amanda adjust herself in her chair so that she had a better view of Ramsay's ass and genitals, which were now on clear display. "Lift up your arms," Hunter told him. Ramsay glanced at him, then did as Hunter instructed. Hunter pulled down wrist cuffs and secured Ramsay's wrists at arm's length over his head. "Keep your head back, hanging over like that. You're going to eat my cock," Hunter told him, reaching down and smoothing some of his silky fair hair back from his face. He saw Ramsay's tongue dart out over his lips, leaving them moistened, his big cock now standing at attention. The fight was melting away inch by inch. Hunter leaned down closer to his cheek. "You're so fucking beautiful like that. I won't be able to control myself." One of Hunter's hands strayed over his chest, brushing the nipple and settling on his stomach. Ramsay's bottom lip quivered slightly. Hunter caressed Ramsay's stomach, then moved his hand just a little lower so that it brushed the base of his shaft. His cock was curled up towards his stomach now, definitely ripe for some action, so thick, so long. Hunter walked around to where Ramsay's head hung down. He let the head of his cock stray over his lips, then he pulled it back, before touching his lips again with it teasingly. Ramsay opened his mouth, but wasn't quite quick enough to capture the head of his prick in his mouth. There was a sigh of frustration. "You'll eat when I allow it," he said, meeting his eyes. Then, for Amanda's 72

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benefit, he said loudly, "After you eat my cock, slave, I'm going to have my way with your ass. It's my ass to do what I want with. Remember that." Amanda made a sound, and then the vibrator started to whirl. Hunter lowered his cock again, grabbing Ramsay's chin and forcing open his jaw. He moved the head of his cock around his lips before he drove it deeper into his open mouth. Ramsay closed his eyes, moving his tongue around it, then he began to suck it. **** The taste of Hunter's cock in his mouth was almost too sublime, and the way Hunter had constrained him with his legs up and open like that made him feel like a wanton whore. It was turning him on like mad. His enthusiasm for eating Hunter's cock was genuine. He was totally enjoying the sensation, getting off on Hunter's dominance, and the fact that Hunter hadn't touched him much was only heightening his sexual need. Hunter's juices were filling his mouth, flowing down his throat, and just when he thought Hunter was going to let him choke to death, he yanked Ramsay's head up and pulled out his cock. He didn't come in his mouth, which told Ramsay he had something else in mind. He met those dark eyes of his, mixed with lust and the devil, and he felt the cum rumble up through his shaft. His hips lifted with each spurt, and Hunter stood there, his arms crossed, shaking that head of his. "Oh no," he said, "we can't have that." 73

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Ramsay tried to lift his head enough to see what Hunter was up to, but it was too hard to hold it up. Hunter was rummaging around in the toy box. He heard Amanda's vibrator stop, and she uttered a little moan as Hunter came back again. One hand crawled over his chest, pinching one nipple, then the other. "Clamps, I think," Hunter announced. "Um, definitely. His nipples are extra sensitive right now," Amanda contributed. "Hunter, please," Ramsay pleaded, as he felt his fingers playing with one of his nipples. His cock was again on the rise. He heard himself moan. Hunter pinched his nipple again and then he felt the pinch of the clamp. "Ah," he managed. Hunter pulled on it; the sensation was intense. "Here comes the other," Hunter said, then the pinch. "Fuck," Ramsay hissed. "We'll get to that. Be patient," Hunter said. "Fuck you," Ramsay told him. "Not nice." Hunter's face came down close to his. "Say you love me." "Fuck yourself, you son of a..." He stopped. Hunter threw his head back and laughed. Suddenly, Ramsay gasped as he felt Hunter's strong hand grip the base of his cock. "A cock ring, just to make sure you don't come too fast." A ring was lifted up over his cock and then tightened into place. "All that cock on such a delicate little boy; seems like it should be illegal." "Ummmm," Ramsay moaned. The sensation was a blur of pleasurable pressure. He moved his hips up and down a few times. 74

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"Now, a gag, just to make sure you don't swear at me anymore." Hunter came around to his head again. "Open wide, baby," he said, grabbing his chin and forcing the ball gag into his mouth. Ramsay protested some. The gag made him feel really helpless. Hunter tied it in the back. Ramsay heard the footsteps walk around the table. His heart beat like a drum in his chest. Mmmm ... he would have done anything for Hunter to touch his cock right now. It was throbbing. When a finger moved over his anus, which was feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable, he let out a scream through the gag. The sensation shot right through his cock and made his testicles tighten like a vise. He knew his hips were moving provocatively, and he hoped it was driving that son of a bitch out of his damn mind. "Oh God, Hunter," Amanda said. "He's so sexy like that. I feel another orgasm coming on." "You haven't seen nothing yet," Hunter growled. One slick finger teased his bud. Ramsay sucked in some breath. When he felt the tip of his finger enter him, he moaned. It went deeper. Jesus ... oh God ... deeper still and then it began to hit every nerve. It didn't miss a one; his prostate had suddenly woken up big time. Just when he thought he wouldn't be able to take another second of it, a hand slapped his cock. His back arched, his cock springing into the air. Another finger, a hand fondling his cock, moving the ring around, playing with his balls. "Hunter, please!" he screamed through the ball gag. It sounded unintelligible. Amanda's vibrator started again. Hunter's fingers left his ass, 75

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and soft lips kissed the inside of his thighs, then moved around his balls, sucking them into his mouth, while the other hand pulled on a nipple clamp. It was too much, too intense. I'm going to come ... Hunter ... baby ... I'm going to come. Hunter's mouth left his thigh, and he felt his cock at the opening of his well-lubricated opening. "Do you want me, slave? Do you want me?" he insisted, the head beginning to enter him. Ramsay stayed stubbornly silent. No, he wouldn't say it. He wasn't going to beg if that's what he wanted. "Say it," Hunter urged, hastily pulling the gag out of Ramsay's mouth. He pushed deeper, and then pulled out. Ramsay moaned. Bastard. If this was revenge, it was evil. He was fucking evil. "Say it!" Hunter pressed his cock into him again, just enough to tease rather than satisfy. "Fucker," he yelled. "No. Never." "Then you don't get it," Hunter growled, pulling out completely. Tears filled Ramsay's eyes. He was desperate. His entire body was in need. He began to kick his legs. He'd never forgive him for this. Never. "Say it!" Hunter insisted. "Say it, slave. Say you want me." Ramsay felt Hunter's hands on his face. Amanda was silent. "Say it," Hunter insisted, his dark eyes seizing his with their gaze. "Never," Ramsay said between clenched teeth, his back arching. 76

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"Hunter," Amanda said suddenly. "What's ... I mean, do it, take him. I want to see you take him." Ramsay saw Amanda stand up, come closer. "Amanda, please," Ramsay pleaded, "make him do it." "You said he was my slave," Hunter snapped. "You said I could make him do what I wanted. I want to hear him say it." "Say it," Amanda urged. "It's only a game. Come on. Give us both what we want, baby." Ramsay sighed. "I'll say it, but I don't mean it." Hunter shrugged as if he didn't give a damn. Ramsay ran his gaze over him, finally settling on his erection. "I want you," he grunted. "Please Hunter, fuck me." Hunter literally smirked. "Bet it hurt you to say that." When he felt Hunter's cock enter him, this time inching all the way inside of him, the tears began to flow. He cried silently, his face to the side so that no one could see. Amanda let out a cry as well, coming with him, but Ramsay hardly registered that. He felt Hunter's cream fill his ass, heard him grunt something, then abruptly move away from him. Well, he couldn't expect anything else, could he? "That was beautiful," Amanda said. Hunter was sitting over on the floor in the corner, his head down. Amanda began to release Ramsay from his shackles. When she undid his ankles, Ramsay lowered them in relief. "Are you all right?" "Yes, sure," Ramsay said. "Were you ... crying?" Amanda reached over and wiped a tear off his face. 77

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Hunter looked up. "No," Ramsay said with a grin. "It's sweat. That was quite a workout." "Hah, all you did was lie there," Hunter scoffed. Ramsay didn't reply. "Look," Amanda said, "tomorrow night at the party, would you guys mind putting on a little performance for a few of my closest friends?" Hunter stood up. "Anything you want." "We'll talk about the details tomorrow," Amanda said. "Okay," Ramsay replied. He just wanted to get out of here now, get away from Hunter. Finally, Amanda told them to go to bed, and Ramsay hurried along the hallway and shut himself in his room before Hunter could catch up with him. **** Over coffee the next morning, Amanda started to talk to them about the party. Ramsay was upbeat and happy again, but Hunter looked rather sullen. "I love parties," Ramsay announced, munching on his second banana. "Do these people know that you ... you know?" "Yes," she said, glancing at Hunter again. "And they don't judge because many of them use Jacques's services as well." "Oh they do judge, but behind your back," Hunter pointed out, pouring himself more coffee. Amanda grinned. "It gives them something to talk about." "And because you're rich," Hunter added, "you're allowed to be eccentric." 78

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Amanda narrowed her eyes. "Ignore him, Amanda," Ramsay said. "He's an ass." Hunter raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything. "You obviously don't like the rich," Amanda said, eyeing Hunter, who looked absolutely breathtaking in his white trunks, his dark loose curls damp from the pool. "I can't say I have much use for them, no, except as a way to earn my daily bread, amen. Present company excluded," he said, bowing his head. "Glad to hear it," she murmured, making a face at Ramsay, who laughed. "You laugh like a girl," Hunter accused, standing up, obviously bored with the exchange. "You look like one too." "Hey," Amanda said, as Ramsay said something biting under his breath, "enough of that. I want to discuss the party tonight." "Whatever you decide is fine with me," Hunter said. "I'm being paid for it. How many people are going to be at this little shindig, anyway?" "About five. It's a small dinner party. Would you and Ramsay be opposed to doing a little role play?" "You want me to play the bad boy again?" Hunter asked, smirking. "You naturally play it so well." Ramsay gave him a mawkish grin. "Yes, and if the truth be known"—he leaned down and placed his face near Ramsay's ... "you play your role well too, a hell of a lot better than I." Ramsay pushed him away. 79

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Amanda shook her head. "Be nice. You don't have to play the bad boy, Hunter. You boys work it out." She stood up. "I expect something good, exciting." "We'll make it good," Ramsay said enthusiastically. "Okay, I'll see you guys later. I have to go and do some things," Amanda told them, and then left to take care of last minute preparations for the party. **** She'd been rushing around making sure the servants had readied the house when the doorbell rang. She checked her watch. It was only five o'clock. Surely the guests hadn't arrived yet. She had to shower, dress, and check to make sure that Hunter and Ramsay were prepared. She had laid out their clothes earlier. She was anxious to see them all dressed up. "Isn't anyone going to answer the door?" she called out a little crossly as she made her way down the long hallway to the front door. Clarissa was running down the stairs now to catch up, but Amanda waved her away. "Too late," she snapped. She opened the door, prepared to see either a salesman or a very early guest. Who she was met with caused her to gasp. "Hello, Amanda. Surprise." She put a hand to her chest. "My God." She could hardly get her breath. "What...? How? My God!" She opened her arms and pulled him in close. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't believe it. "Scott," she said. "Baby. I'm so happy to see you." She released him, and then she noticed the suitcase. 80

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Chapter Six Scott hesitated when she told him to come in. He glanced back at his suitcase, then reached for it. "Do you need a place to stay?" Amanda asked, eyeing the bag. "This is still your home, you know. It will always be your home." Scott nodded silently. He reached out his hand and squeezed her forearm. "It won't be for long, and it's not like before. I..." "Of course not," Amanda interjected. "Where's Ciel?" Scott met her eyes. "I'd rather not talk about him right now." "Okay. Well," she said, brightening, "you've come at the right time. I'm having a party tonight for some of my good friends, a few you might remember." "Good," he said. "I could use a party." "Your old room is still there. I haven't touched it," Amanda said. Her pulses were fluttering. She could hardly believe that Scott was here, standing right in front of her. She was so happy to see him. She loved him dearly, but she couldn't help but feel a little resentful. After all, she hadn't heard a word from him since he'd left two years ago. She realized that she was chattering on because Scott had suddenly fallen silent. She glanced back at him, leading him up the stairs. There were dark rings under his eyes. He looked drawn. Well, hell, he looked bloody miserable. She stopped just before his room. "I have two new ones now," 81

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she announced. She wasn't sure why, but she had to make him aware. "I'm not here to..." He shook his head. His wavy dark hair was longer now, and he needed a shave. "I know. I'd never ask you. You're a guest, and you can stay here as long as you need to." He looked away. "Scott, baby," she said. "Tell me." "You were right," he said, his voice sounding strangled. "He was the last man anyone should fall in love with." He swallowed. "What happened, baby?" Amanda asked gently. He shook his head. "Not now," he whispered. "Give me a few minutes to settle in. I'll take a shower and change, meet your boys." He smiled, but it looked contrived. "I could use a bit of recreation. I'm a free agent now." She nodded. "You take your time. Guests won't arrive until eightish. Hunter and Ramsay are going to put on a little show." She smirked. He issued her a faint smile. "Hunter and Ramsay? What happened to Chase and Cassidy?" "Oh," Amanda said, surprised. "How did you know about...?" "I ran into Jacques; it was last year, I think, and he told me." "They're gone. Well, Cassidy is dead." "Dead?" "Yes, it's a long story, and Chase left me for my brother Jordon. Do you remember Jordon?" 82

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Scott nodded. "Yep. How could I forget? He didn't approve of me." "That's Jordon. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow." "Okay," he said, placing a hand on the handle of the door. "Honey," Amanda said. "Um?" He turned around and glanced at her. "You might have picked up the phone. I know we didn't part on the greatest of terms, but that didn't mean I stopped caring about you." "I know. I'm sorry, Amanda," he said. "I never forgot you. I spent almost seven years here. In my head, it's still my home. It's the first place I thought of when..." He stopped. "Forgive me." "I do," she said, hugging him to her again. "I forgive you, my dearest." She released him and let him walk back into his old room. She stood stunned in the hallway for a few minutes. She was happy to have Scott home, but she hated to see him suffering like this. She couldn't help but be curious about what had happened with Ciel, but she was sure that he would tell her all in good time. An hour later, Amanda was in the process of informing Hunter and Ramsay—who looked irresistible in the dressy clothes she had bought them—all about Scott, when he suddenly made an appearance. He was dressed casually in black dress pants and a silk shirt with a subtle floral print faded deliberately into the background. It was a beautiful shirt. He had shaved, and he looked gorgeous, but Amanda could still see the dark rings under his eyes. "Boys, this is 83

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Scott," she announced, dancing over and taking his arm. "I was just telling the boys about you. I hope you don't mind," she said, kissing his cheek. He shrugged, his gaze going to Hunter, then Ramsay. He held out his hand. "Good to meet you," he said, shaking Ramsay's hand. "I'm looking forward to the show." Ramsay was the first to speak. He looked gorgeous in a pair of pale blue leather pants and a cream-colored shirt. His wispy hair had been feather-cut and streaked a little. When he spoke to Scott, Amanda couldn't help but be amused at how bowled over by him he was. "You're ah ... gorgeous, Scott." Scott laughed a little. "Thanks, Ramsay. You're not so bad yourself." Hunter didn't shake his hand. He leaned over instead and slapped him on the bicep. "So this is the infamous Scott?" Scott's eyes widened a little. "You know me?" "I know of you," he said. "Jacques mentions you every once in awhile." "Oh," Scott shrugged. "Well, nice to meet you, Hunter." "So, you guys have any instructions for tonight?" Amanda asked, adjusting one of her diamond earrings. "Where do you want to do your performance?" "The poolside," Ramsay said. "So, what are we in for?" Amanda raised an eyebrow. "It's a surprise," Hunter told her. He looked very sophisticated tonight in his tight white pants and black open neck shirt. Amanda leaned over and ran a hand over his jaw. "Rough. I always liked a man who left a 84

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shadow. You remember how Ciel always had that..." she began, looking at Scott, then checked herself when she saw Scott's face. "I mean, I used to ask Chase not to shave and..." "What happened to Chase?" Ramsay asked curiously, sitting on the sofa. "He's with my brother. I'm sure you'll get to meet him. They'll be coming for a visit sometime. Well, I'm off to check the kitchen. Have a drink, boys, relax," she sang out. **** Hunter went to sit down beside Ramsay on the sofa now, and Scott raised an eyebrow when he saw Ramsay immediately stand up and leave the room. His eyes followed him until he was gone. "He's allergic to me," Hunter said, then laughed as if he didn't care a damn. "Seems so," Scott mused, studying Hunter. What a stunning guy he was. Hot was not the word. He had this raunchy sex appeal which hit him the moment he walked into the room. He wouldn't mind a piece of that, actually. Ramsay, on the other hand, was like a piece of chewy scrumptious candy, sweet as sugar, but with a backbone of steel. "Hunter," Scott said, letting his gaze wander over him before returning to his face. "Wow," he said, "you really know how to check a guy out. Do you like what you see, baby?" "Definitely," Scott replied. "I'm interested to see what you can do tonight." 85

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Hunter smiled. "You're biracial, aren't you, like me?" "Don't remind me," he said, clearing his throat. Scott narrowed his eyes. "Where you from?" "I grew up in Jamaica." "Ouch. The most homophobic place on earth practically." "You're telling me. And couple that with being biracial, they don't get off on that." Scott came and sat down beside him. "How long you been in the U.S.?" "Three years now." "Legal?" "Yeah, man. My dad is an American." "So, how did you get involved with the Agency?" He paused. "By accident." "Okay," Scott said. "You don't have to tell me." He searched his face. "I hope we can be friends. I don't know how long I'll be here, but..." "Why'd you come back?" "Long story," Scott said. "Think Amanda will let us fuck?" He met Scott's eyes. That was direct. A smile played around Scott's lips. "She will if she has any mercy." Hunter laughed. Scott stood up. "I'm going to get that drink now. Want one?" "Sure," he said. "Why not? Scotch." Scott nodded and walked over to the bar, all the while aware that Hunter was scrutinizing his ass. To hell with 86

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mooning around. Fuck Ciel! Tonight he was going to drink, and he was going to have a good time. He'd just have to see what Amanda would let him get away with. As he carried the two glasses over to where Hunter sat, he said devilishly, "What do you think of my ass, Hunter? Does it pass?" "Baby, it more than passes." Hunter winked at him. "You're about to make me come in my pants, and that just won't do." Scott smiled seductively, and clinked his glass with his. "Guess I still got it." "I bet you never lost it." Hunter looked down at Scott's groin. "I'd love to get a look at that." Scott licked his lips slowly. "Oh yeah?" "Oh, yeah." "What would you do to it if I let you take a peek?" "You tease," Hunter accused. "You know I can't do a damn thing right now. Amanda would crucify me." "You and me both," Scott laughed. His cock had stiffened considerably. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'd love to ram my cock up that ass of yours." Hunter met his eyes. "Hey, it's your ass I want." Scott smiled. "That could be arranged as well." The doorbell rang, and Amanda called out to the maid to answer it. It broke the spell, and Scott drained his glass, poured himself another drink, and prepared to meet Amanda's horny guests. Three out of the five guests were male, which wasn't really a surprise to Scott. Amanda related much better to men than 87

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she did women. She could put people in their place fairly easily. Scott knew them all, and as far as he could remember, he detested them all too—snooty, arrogant, becoming disgusting pigs after they had had a few drinks. Amanda only invited them so that she could show off her boys and make them drool. Scott never did understand why she did that; it was some power game she liked to play. They all asked about Ciel, of course. One of them, a Martin Jamerson, brought Ciel up at the dinner table over dessert. "Scott," he said in that annoying overbearing voice of his, "weren't you paired with that gorgeous creature ... Ciel, I believe?" He didn't wait for Scott to answer. He turned to Amanda, who was sitting beside him at the head of the table. "Didn't you find him in Europe?" "France, actually," she said, sipping her coffee. Scott pushed his cake away. "Can I have it?" Ramsay whispered, and Scott nodded. Where in hell did he put it? "He was something. You should have seen this guy." Martin looked around at the other guests. "Beautiful. Like a dream, hot, sexy, macho, and with a cock ... well that cock, hard, juicy; and perform ... could he perform." Yes, that cock, Scott echoed in his mind. He closed his eyes for a second. Ciel had a beautiful cock, and he knew just what to do with it. He would have done anything to get this bore to keep his mouth shut, but just he went on and on. "I saw this guy with Scott one night at one of Amanda's parties. They did a show at the pool. Do you remember, Scott?" He glanced over at him. 88

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Scott forced a smile. His hand trembled as he reached for his coffee cup. He was surprised when Hunter, who was sitting on his other side, placed his hand over his to steady it. "I've never been so turned on in my life. It was the most erotic fuck scene between two men I'd ever witnessed. I mean it..." "More coffee?" Amanda interrupted, a little louder than normal. Maybe she was taking pity on him, Scott thought. "Did everyone enjoy the dessert?" Mercifully, the conversation switched to other things. Scott sat back in his chair, deliberately not following the chatter. "Are you all right?" Hunter asked him, leaning into his ear. "I could use some air," Scott said. Hunter stood up. "Hate to interrupt," he said to Amanda, raising his voice over the chatter, "but Ramsay and I need some prep time. Give us some notice, Amanda, when you'll be ready." Scott stood up too. "Time for a smoke outside," he said. "Smoke?" Amanda glanced at him. "Since when do you smoke?" "I took it up a few weeks ago," he said. "Amanda," another guest said, clearly not interested in Scott's newly acquired smoking habit, "are we in for a special treat?" "Of course. I wouldn't disappoint." She winked. This guy was in his fifties, and rotund. Scott recognized him as an important big shot on one of her boards of directors. 89

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"Go smoke," Amanda said. "And Ramsay, Hunter, go and do what you need to do. Let's say a half an hour?" Ramsay nodded, pushing back his chair. Scott was down the hall heading for the door, Hunter on his heels. "I have some really good smoke," Hunter said in Scott's ear. "Hey," Ramsay said, hurrying to catch up, "where you guys going?" Scott turned around. "Outside to smoke a bit of weed. You in?" Ramsay shrugged. "Sure. I could use something to..." "To make him forget who he's doing the show with tonight," Hunter jeered, jabbing his thumb at him through the air. Scott looked from one to another. "What's wrong with you? I should be so lucky." "Don't pay any attention," Ramsay said, walking out into the night air with them. "He's full of shit." Hunter laughed, leaning against the wall of the house. He took out three joints and handed one to each of them. He lit his, then passed the matches to Scott who lit his own, and Ramsay's. "Picked this up yesterday. This stuff will make you horny as hell," Hunter said, sucking in some smoke. "It's all natural. I get it from a guy who gets it from home. We smoke it like nothing there." "That's why you're so goofy," Ramsay said, then he laughed. The smoke was already getting to him. Scott placed one hand on his groin and took another drag. "Either one of you up for sucking a bit of cock?" He looked at 90

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Hunter. He was so grateful that Hunter hadn't asked any questions about Ciel. "I'm better at it than he is," Ramsay interjected, reaching for Scott's zip. Scott let him slide the zipper down, his eyes on Hunter. Hunter shrugged and took another drag before stubbing the joint out. "This is potent shit, man. I won't smoke all this, I'll be on my knees." "One can only hope," Scott murmured, letting his head stray back against the wall. Hunter winked at him. Oh, he was a real smooth operator. Ramsay had Scott's cock in his hand. He was just about to slide to his knees when they heard Amanda's voice. "Where are you guys?" Scott laughed, pushing Ramsay's hand away, and quickly tucking his cock back into his pants. All three of them began waving the puffs of smoke away with their hands. Suddenly Amanda was there. She glanced at the three of them, shaking her head. "I know what you guys were doing. God, that smells good. You been holding out, Hunter?" Hunter grinned. "Why me?" "You're the Jamaican." Hunter howled with laughter. Scott and Ramsay began to laugh too, and for a minute they couldn't stop. "Okay," Amanda said with a frown, "you two"—she hooked her thumb toward Ramsay and Hunter ... "get going. Scott, come with me." 91

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Ramsay and Hunter sauntered back into the house. Amanda took Scott's arm. "Hello, mother," he said, grinning. "Not funny. Come on. You want to see the show, don't you?" "Oh baby." Scott kissed her on the cheek. "Do I want to see the show!" Scott had another drink before Amanda asked them all to come outside by the pool. A well-dressed waiter was bringing around margaritas. "You should slow down," Amanda told him. "You're going to be sick." "Amanda," Scott said, "please. Just let me go. I really need this. If I'm sick, I'm sick. It's my doing." Amanda nodded. "All right, but tomorrow, we talk. Agreed?" Scott shrugged. "Sure." He watched her as she walked off to talk to someone else. Talk. What in hell good would talk do when his heart was shattered? He sighed. He knew she wouldn't let up until he told her. He knew he should probably cut out of here before he got sucked back in. Everything was easy here. So clear. And right now, it was just what he needed. Amanda moved back to where Scott was sitting now, in a wingback chair by the head of the pool. His hand was sitting on the arm of the chair, and she covered it with hers. "I'm all right," he said. "Stop fussing over me." Amanda's gaze went to the pool. "They have everyone's attention." "Yep." Scott took in some air. He motioned to the waiter and took another drink off the tray. Hunter and Ramsay had 92

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just stripped off their clothes and dived into the pool. It didn't take long for the guests to stop talking to each other and pay attention. He watched as Hunter swam over to Ramsay. He pulled him up against him and kissed him hotly, which immediately got a rise out of the spectators. Scott swallowed the liquor which suddenly tasted a little bitter in his mouth. He couldn't help being taken back to the time that he and Ciel had entertained some of Amanda's guests in this very pool. He'd already been half gone over him, and Ciel had known it. He'd taken advantage of his emotions. Scott closed his eyes, then opened them again as he heard one the men moan, "God, they're coming out." Amanda smiled. She appeared very pleased with the reception Hunter and Ramsay were getting. **** The pot had made Ramsay really horny. In fact, he thought he was going to climb the walls as he sat across from Hunter at the pool waiting for the guests to appear. As soon as they did, he'd stripped off and dived into the pool. He didn't give a shit about anything tonight except getting off. It didn't even matter that it was Hunter. Fuck Hunter, and fuck the past. Hunter was just as horny as he was. He could feel his hard cock slap his thigh in the water as he deep throated him with his tongue. Ramsay danced away from him, not because he wanted to avoid Hunter, but because he knew if he didn't, he'd get down and dirty with him right in the water. Amanda wouldn't approve of that because it wouldn't have afforded the 93

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audience a good view. Ramsay didn't give a shit who was watching, or if their performance would please. He was thinking only of his aching cock and the sexy, scrumptious piece of man meat who was now crawling out of that pool. Hunter reached out his arm and snaked him backwards. He held Ramsay around the neck, turning him so that he was on display. "Look at that, he likes me tonight," Hunter announced, causing the people to either laugh or whistle. "Look how hard he is, that luscious big cock of his. I plan to torture it." Ramsay literally undulated against him. Whatever that stuff was he had been smoking, it had done the trick. "Use me," he grunted. "Do whatever you want." He was panting when one of Hunter's hands moved over his chest, tweaking his nipple, then almost brutishly seizing his cock. "Anything?" Hunter echoed. He cupped Ramsay's balls now, his lips coming down on his throat. He released him. "Go stand over there and turn around, then put your hands over your head, palms on the patio door." Ramsay swallowed as he walked over to the patio door. He spread his legs, faced the door, and extended his arms. The glass acted like a mirror, allowing the onlookers to have both a front and back view. He could see Amanda through the glass. She was smiling faintly, and one of the male guests was already masturbating. Hunter placed one arm around his waist and pulled, putting him in a bent position. He slapped his ass once and laughed, turning to the crowd and handling his own erection. There were some moans. "I'm going to fuck 94

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his ass good," Hunter said, "but before I do that, I want to play." **** Scott was hard as rock. God, Hunter was good. He was so good, and right now Scott was more than just a little turned on by the performance. Hunter was on his knees now, rimming Ramsay, and he could see his contorted face through the patio door. Ramsay was near the brink. A slow long moan came from his lips, echoed by some others in the audience. He was having a hard time keeping still, his hands making streak marks on the glass as they slid down. As Hunter used his tongue on Ramsay's ass, he reached between the other man's thighs and played with his cock and balls. Ramsay began to thrust his hips against the glass in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure. Hunter reached out with both hands and grabbed Ramsay's hips, forcing them to stay still, then he stood up. "Turn around," he demanded. Ramsay whimpered, "Please," as he turned, his cock dripping with cum, his balls tucked up tightly under his shaft. He reached out and ran a hand over one of Hunter's biceps, his heated stare on Hunter's erection. Hunter leaned his face in and kissed his mouth, then trailed his lips to his collarbone before laving one of his nipples. Ramsay's head knocked back against the glass, the banging echoing loudly, emphasizing the desperate state Ramsay was in. Someone hissed, "Fuck him. Fuck that ass." 95

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Hunter stood back. "Get down on the ground, on your back. Lift your legs over your head and hold them there." Ramsay did as he was told, his eyes half closed, moaning some as he lifted his legs and held them with his hands. Hunter walked over to the chair on the other side of the pool and picked up a length of rope. Casually he looped one end around a wrist and ankle, then brought it around back to capture the other side. He tied the rope. "Now he can't play with himself." He threw the words at the onlookers. "What a beautiful slut." Ramsay licked his lips. Scott was absolutely captivated. He'd never seen anyone look more erotic than Ramsay did at that moment, his blond hair falling over his face, his slender delicate body slick with sweat, his huge cock so needy. He was suffering and only Hunter could take that suffering away. Scott shifted his weight a little, trying to move his cock into a more comfortable position in his pants. Hunter sunk down on his knees. He steadied Ramsay, placing his hands on his hips, leaving his ass and genitals at his mercy. Hunter took his time, heightening the arousal of the audience as he licked his finger, then ran it over his own pre-cum and then slowly began to twirl it up into Ramsay's anus. Ramsay cried out something unintelligible, and Scott stifled a moan. He wasn't going to be able to take much more of this. Amanda's hand landed on his thigh suddenly and he almost felt the urge to move it to his cock. Let's face it, a hand job was a hand job. "Mandy," he said in her ear suddenly, "will you let me play later? Please?" She smiled at him. "Maybe." 96

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Ramsay let out another cry. Two fingers were up inside him now and Hunter's mouth was on his shaft. Scott knew that he wouldn't take much more, and Hunter apparently knew it too because he had a condom between his teeth. He turned toward the crowd now, slowly pulling the sheath up over his cock. "He's hung," Scott said to Amanda. "You know how to pick 'em." "Of course," she said, her hand sitting discreetly between her thighs. "They both are." Suddenly, Hunter seized Ramsay's calves and plunged his cock into him. Frantically Hunter bucked into him as Ramsay gave it back thrust by grunted thrust. The sounds of their fucking reverberated around the poolside. Scott could have bet that there wasn't one dry crotch in the vicinity. **** Hunter's hand was now on Ramsay's cock. Ramsay yelled out, "God ... God ... God..." as his cock pulsated out its hot creamy contents. As soon as Hunter released him, he rocked his hips back and forth on the ground, the muscles in his entire body relaxing into satisfied bliss. He lay there drifting off into a peaceful lull when he felt Hunter's hands undo the rope. Ramsay let his legs fall forward on the ground, stretching them out with a grateful grunt. His eyes opened. He blinked and sat up. Faces were materializing around him. Hunter was reaching for a towel, wiping the perspiration off his arms and chest. There was a sudden burst of applause. Ramsay stood up, forcing his most brilliant smile and did a few bows. He could see Hunter out of 97

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the corner of his eye. He simply inclined his head toward the people, and gave Amanda a cocky little salute. Amanda was now moving her guests back into the house. It was late and Ramsay would have loved to climb into bed at that moment and sleep. Hunter walked over to Scott. As they talked, Scott reached a hand out to touch Hunter's thigh. Scott seemed nice enough. All he knew about him really was that he had been one of Amanda's boys at one time. And right now, he was very drunk. "Hunter," Ramsay said, walking over to him. He had no idea where he had left his clothes. Hunter glanced at him, waiting. "I ... ah ... well, I don't think Amanda would approve. I think we need to..." "Approve of what exactly?" He grunted. "What exactly does Amanda need to approve of?" "Hey," Scott said to Hunter, slurring a bit, "want to play later? How about the three of us"—he glanced at Ramsay ... "with Amanda, of course. I already asked and, well ... after that performance..." "Sounds like a plan," Hunter grinned. "You mean ... the three of us ... amusing Amanda?" Ramsay knew he was repeating that unnecessarily. Scott smiled slyly. "Yeah, Ramsay. Only we'll be amusing ourselves." Hunter laughed, then walked over and picked up his pants. He glanced at him suddenly. "Going to put some clothes on? Or are you going to run around naked all night?" 98

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"Sure," he said. "I'm looking for my..." He paused suddenly. He heard the sound of a car engine starting, then another. "Guests are leaving." "Good," Scott said, getting up and stumbling towards the door. "Time for another drink." When he had disappeared, Ramsay asked, "What's he doing here anyway?" "I don't know really," was the response. "I think he broke up with his boyfriend." "You like him?" "He's nice, gorgeous. Don't you?" Ramsay shrugged. "He's okay." "Not jealous, are you, Ram?" Hunter taunted, doing up his pants. "Fuck you," Ramsay said, and stalked inside with his clothes bunched up in his fist. He could hear Hunter laughing behind him as he too came inside. Ramsay turned around and glared at Hunter. "You're the touchy feely one, remember?" His face twisted a little. Hunter was about to say something when Amanda suddenly appeared. "You guys were fantastic tonight. Do you have any energy left?" "I'm beat," Ramsay said. "Well, you and Scott then?" Amanda glanced at Hunter. "Scott's a little down and I think he needs..." "Guess I could stay up for a little while," Ramsay interjected. If Hunter thought he was going to be fucking Scott all alone in that room, he had news for him. "I would love to get to know Scott a little better." 99

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Hunter raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything. "Great," Amanda said while Hunter brushed past her and headed for the stairs. "Be nice to him, okay?" "Sure," Ramsay said. "Give me five minutes."

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Chapter Seven Amanda pulled her housecoat around her and belted it. She was half asleep as she padded down the hall in her bare feet, squinting at the clock on the wall before she pulled the door open. She blinked when she saw who was standing there, and then said, "Jesus Christ. If it's going to be like this each time I open the door, I'll have the maid do it." "Aren't you glad to see me?" Her brother Jordon asked, throwing his bag down and opening his arms. "Of course," she said, stepping into his embrace. "But does it have to be at this god-awful hour?" Jordon hugged her. "Mandy," he protested with a laugh, "it's after ten." She moaned. Suddenly Clarissa came rushing down the hall. "I'll get that, madame," she said breathlessly. "Too late. Again!" Amanda said, turning with her arm still around her brother's slim waist. She placed her head on his shoulder for a second, giving him a little squeeze, then released him. "Where's Chase?" "Right here," he said, poking his head around her brother. "I'm the fetch and carry boy." He pushed two suitcases through the door as Jordon walked in, and grinned. Clarissa hung her head and disappeared. "Are you staying for a year?" Amanda eyed the suitcases. "No," Chase laughed, reaching out and capturing her in a bear hug. "We're going to Europe on Thursday. We thought we'd spend Jordon's birthday here with you." 101

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Amanda raised a hand to her mouth. "My God. I almost forgot. Darling," she said, touching her little brother's hand, "I'm so sorry, sweetie. We'll have a party." "No," he said. "Just you, me, and Chase. That's why I came. I don't want a big party like some of my friends were thinking of planning out in New York. I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet." He picked up his bag and walked down the hall. Amanda sucked in a breath, and looked at Chase. "What?" Chase asked her. Amanda sighed, then leaned over and said softly in his ear, "I have two new boys from the Agency." Chase laughed out loud. Amanda hit him in the gut. "Stop it." "This should be fun," Chase replied comically. "That's not all." Chase met her eyes. "Okay." "Scott's here." "Scott?" Chases eyes widened. "You mean the Scott, the one who left here with that Ciel guy?" "Yes." "Ciel too?" "No. They've split up. Scott's only here temporarily." "'Manda?" Jordon called from the living room. "I'm starved." "Got to feed him," Chase laughed. "What am I going to do?" "Well, you better tell him." Chase grinned at her. 102

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"You're enjoying this," she accused, reaching up and smacking him across the head. "Ouch," he said, ducking. He laughed and danced out of the way when she tried to hit him again in earnest. "That's for loving this so much. You know he's going to freak." "Yep. And I'm just going to sit back and watch it all unfold. Actually, I'm dying to meet Scott." Amanda smiled. "He's a sweetie." "I've heard so much about him. It will be nice to put a face to the name." "He's in pain right now. I don't know how to help him." "Amanda?" Jordon bellowed. Chase shook his head. "See what I live with?" He grinned. Amanda chewed her thumbnail. "He's going to freak," she muttered. "Does Jordon know Scott?" "I'm afraid so," she said, wincing. "Oh yeah?" Chase folded his arms across his chest. "When did he meet him? Before or after Ciel?" "Way before. Now, don't you start." "You could tell him the other guys are ... friends of Scott's, and that he's just visiting." "Think he'll buy that?" "No. Not when he gets a look at them." Amanda sighed. "Leave the bags. Come on, let's feed the bear." She took his arm and squeezed it. God, she loved Chase, so handsome with those dark blue eyes and wavy black hair. It looked like all her men had come home, almost. 103

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**** Scott woke up with one hell of a hangover. He rolled over in bed and moaned. For a second he reached out his hand, expecting to curl his fingers in Ciel's long silky black hair. Then he clenched his fist and rolled over again. "Fuck you," he muttered, sitting upright in bed suddenly. He ran a hand through his short dark hair. Was he destined to have Ciel on his mind every morning first thing when he opened his eyes? "Get out of my head," he growled, throwing the blankets off. He walked into the adjoining shower, and turned it on. Every bedroom in Amanda's house had a shower, and they all had multiple sprays destined to hit every erogenous zone possible. He was hard anyway. He had woken up that way. If Ciel were here, he'd take care of that for him ... but then again, maybe not. Ciel hadn't touched him for weeks before the end. He let his head go back against the tile and closed his eyes. Ciel's beautiful face appeared in his head, coal black eyes full of ... love. "Ciel," he moaned, running his hand down over his chest. "Je t'aime." He wrapped his fist around his shaft. He remembered asking Ciel one night how to say "I love you" in French, and Ciel had whispered it in his ear over and over while he slowly moved his cock in and out of him. He felt something catch in his throat as he began to jerk off. "I hate you," he whispered, swallowing the hot tears. "I hate you, you bastard! I hate ... hate ... hate..." Each word caused him to jerk his cock harder and faster until he came in a stream of cum which mimicked his stream of tears. 104

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His sobs also came hard and fast as he cradled his now limp cock in his hand. Finally, he stopped crying and stepped out of the shower. He slowly dried off. The sadness was profound and it echoed around him in the lonely room. He went over to his suitcase and pulled out some shorts and a Tshirt, pushing the sadness away. With all the foster homes he'd been through, he'd learned to shake off the sadness, bury it deep inside of him. Why couldn't he do that this time? He'd have to find a way to kill the pain. He really didn't care how, but he was going to find a damn way. Tomorrow he'd go back downtown, see if he could talk Bud into giving him his job back. After what Ciel had pulled at the Club, he'd have to do some fast talking. But he had brought in a lot of money, so maybe if he explained that he was no longer with Ciel and ... If worst came to worst, he'd go to another club, even if the money was less. But that was tomorrow and right now, he needed coffee. Bad! He was just about to head downstairs when a knock sounded on his door. He opened it, giving Amanda an inquisitive smile. She was still in her robe. "Hard night?" Amanda pushed him back into the room and shut the door. "What?" Scott said. "If it's about last night, then..." "It's not about last night," she said. "And no talk of last night, okay?" It was strange that last night's happenings hadn't been on his mind first thing when he woke up. He might not remember all of it, but he knew he'd had one hell of a time with Ramsay and Hunter up in Amanda's playroom after 105

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everyone had left. "I know it didn't last long. We were all beat, I guess, but I thought you enjoyed..." "I did; it was fine," she said hastily. "And believe me, you weren't in any shape to last too long. Hunter started to suck your cock and you passed out." Scott made a face at her. "I could do better." That made her smile for a second before she got down to business. "It's not about last night. We have unexpected guests." Scott met her eyes. "Ciel?" He could hardly breathe. "No ... baby, I'm sorry," Amanda said, touching his arm. She gave him a compassionate look. He pulled his arm away as if she'd burnt him. "I don't want him here, if that's what you mean." "We need to talk," she said. He decided to ignore that. "Who are your guests?" "Jordon and..." "Jordon?" Scott said, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" God, it had been awhile since he'd seen Amanda's younger brother. What a dish; hot too. He never did tell Amanda the things they'd gotten into when she'd taken that business trip a few years back. Oh yeah, Jordon. That would be good for a little pain relief. Amanda was saying something. "Sorry, I blanked out there a minute. Yes, I remember Jordon. That's cool." "Do you remember how he felt about you being here?"

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He smiled. Yes. He remembered. He'd been all disapproving, but boy, when he'd gotten him alone, he'd made him forget about all his reservations. "Scott!" "Yes. I remember," he repeated with a faint smile. "Oh." "Yes, oh. He's here with Chase and..." "Chase?" "Oh, shit, you don't know who Chase is, do you?" "Oh yes, Jacques mentioned him." "After you and Ciel left, I called Jacques and asked him to send me a couple of boys. He sent me Chase and Cassidy." She paused, and looked down. "A tragedy happened. Cassidy was in with a bad guy, his lover, and he ended up getting shot." Scott's eyes opened. "You said something about this yesterday. Shot, as in dead?" "Yes." "Amanda, why didn't you tell me?" "I didn't know where to find you." Scott nodded. God, he'd had no idea. "Chase stayed here afterwards for awhile," she went on. "He took it hard. He was with Cassidy when it happened." Amanda sighed. "Anyway, Jordon came to visit after our father died, and..." "Your father died too?" She nodded. "It's okay, honey. You know that the old man and I were never close. The good thing is, Jordon and I finally have a halfway decent relationship. Anyway, Chase was here and Jordon was too, and ... well, to make a long story short, 107

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now they're together in New York. They've been together for about four months." "I see." "Don't talk about Cassidy to Chase, okay?" "I won't." "So, what should I tell Jordon about Hunter and Ramsay?" "Tell him the truth," Scott said. "You're the one paying for them. It's not any of his business. How long is he here for?" "Just a few days. His birthday is tomorrow." "Really? Does he know I'm here?" "Not yet. He probably barely remembers you." Scott smiled. He doubted that. "Well, it's time for a reunion then." Amanda took a breath. "I'm going to talk to Hunter and Ramsay, tell them to tone it down a bit. I'll suspend activities with them for awhile. And you're visiting, that's all." "Sure." He shrugged. "It's the truth." "Go downstairs if you like. Chase is looking forward to meeting you. I used to talk about you to him all the time." "Good things, I hope." She grinned. "Of course. I'm going to talk to the boys, and then get dressed. I'll be down soon." "Okay," Scott said. "And, love, we will talk about Ciel. You're going to talk to me, aren't you?" "Amanda," Scott sighed, "there's nothing to say, really. I'm going to go and get my old job back tomorrow and find a small apartment downtown." "You were working?" 108

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"Yes. I had to. We didn't have much money. Ciel was at the university full time, waiting tables when he wasn't studying. I couldn't let him carry all the load." "Where did you work?" "The Jock Club." Amanda's eyes widened. "Stripping?" "It's called dancing nowadays," Scott corrected. "Stripping?" she repeated. "It was the perfect job for me. I wasn't shy about taking off my clothes. I have no skills. Where else could I work and make that kind of money?" "And Ciel approved of this?" "No. He didn't." "Is that why you had a fight?" "It's only part of it, a little part. Amanda, it's complicated. I don't want to..." "Okay," she said gently. "Not today, but soon." He gave her a strained smile and followed her out of the room. **** Chase finished his coffee and sat back in the chair at the dining room table. He watched Jordon finish the last of his pancakes. "Where in hell do you put it?" he asked with a smirk. Jordon grinned at him and rubbed his stomach. "I was hungry."

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"I guess so," Chase said. He leaned across the table. "You have plenty of fuel now, handsome. Why don't you take me upstairs?" Jordon checked his watch. "It's eleven-thirty in the morning." "Yeah, and...?" Jordon laughed. "Hello, Jordon," someone said suddenly, causing Chase to turn around in his seat. The laughter died in Jordon's throat. "Remember me?" Chase took one look at Scott, and then one look at Jordon's face and decided that Jordon definitely remembered him. Who in the hell could forget him? Beautiful skin the color of milky chocolate, sensational brown eyes. His muscles bulged all over the place, shown off to distraction with his blue nylon shorts and pale yellow tank top. So, this was Scott. "Ah ... Scott, isn't it?" Jordon cleared his throat and stood up, reaching over to take his hand. "That's right," Scott said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten my name, stud?" Their eyes met briefly. Chase's jaw dropped. "You must be Chase," Scott said, turning to shake his hand now. Chase shook it briefly, noticing that Scott's eyes quickly returned to Jordon. Well, fuck me, he thought. "I heard a lot about you," Chase said. It was enough to pull Scott's eyes away from Jordon for a few seconds anyway. 110

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"You heard a lot about him?" Jordon said suddenly, sitting back down at the table. "Nervous?" Chase asked, meeting Jordon's eyes and flashing him an overly brilliant smile. "Nervous?" Jordon repeated, shrugging. "Why should I be ... ah ... nervous?" "I don't ... ah ... know," he mimicked. "Should you be?" Chase met Jordon's light blue eyes. "I hope it was good things you heard," Scott said, taking a seat at the table close to Jordon. Too God damned close. Chase got up and walked over to where Jordon sat. He clamped a hand on his shoulder and eyed Scott. "Amanda adores you. She couldn't stop talking about you when I was here. Jordon," he said, digging his fingers into Jordon's collarbone, "you didn't tell me you knew Scott." "The subject ... ow..." Jordon shifted around and glared up at Chase. Chase took his hand off his shoulder. "The subject never, ah ... came up," he said, rubbing his shoulder. "Yes," Scott said, running his gaze deliberately over Jordon, "we knew each other well. Do you remember that time Amanda left to..." "Damn, what time is it?" Jordon blurted out suddenly, standing up. "Looks like its confession time," Chase sneered. Jordon laughed. "I'm not Catholic, baby." "No, but I do seem to recall that you liked to get down on your knees, or was that me?" Scott asked in a silky smooth voice that made Chase want to reach over and slug him. 111

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"Like I said," Jordon said, "I'm not a religious man. Think I'll take a swim. Are our bags upstairs, baby?" Chase stood up also and folded his arms across his chest. He glared at Jordon. Guess who's not getting any tonight? "Yeah, they are," Chase said coldly. "You go on up and I'll stay here with Scott and have a chat." The word "chat" came out exceptionally loud. Jordon swallowed. "Maybe I'l..." "Go on," Chase insisted. "Dunking your head will do you good." Jordon opened his mouth, then he closed it, and quickly left the room. **** Amanda brought Ramsay and Hunter together, and warned them to behave. They said they would, which satisfied her for the time being, although she still wasn't sure how she was going to introduce them to her brother. She was just about to go to her own room when she ran smack into the very person she was thinking about. Jordon looked pissed. "Hey honey," she began. "What—?" "Why didn't you tell me Scott was here?" he demanded. "I ... okay." She held up her hand as she visibly took a breath. "I know what you're going to say. Scott is not here for that. He's left his lover and he's just visiting. It's a transition, and..." "I don't give a shit," he growled. "I fucked him." "What?" "I fucked him." 112

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"You fucked Scott? Darling, you only just got here." "No," he said, swearing under his breath. "I fucked him a few years ago. Remember when I got out of the hospital and Dad was acting his typical shithead self? Remember you asked me to stay here awhile?" "Yes," she said. Then her eyes widened. "You fucked Scott then?" "Yes." "When I went to Stockholm on business?" "Yes." She shrugged. "No worries. Scott probably doesn't even remember it." "Thanks for the compliment," he sneered. "But you'd be wrong on that one. Not only does he remember, he made a point of making it quite apparent to Chase that we knew each other in the ... ah ... biblical sense. Now Chase wants to skin me alive." She smiled softly. "Hon, that's in the past." "Tell that to Chase." "He'll get over it. No worries." She patted him on the back. "A one-night stand. You can be forgiven for that, considering that was the reason Scott was here." "It was more like a one-week stand," Jordon muttered. She lifted her eyebrows. "Jordon, you naughty boy." He gave her a dirty look. She laughed. "Chase will deal with it. He's not the jealous type." "Hah!" 113

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She laughed, patted his arm, and went to her room to get dressed. She was relieved that he wasn't pissed off at her, and at least this stuff gave him something to worry about besides what she was up to. Maybe she just might survive these few days after all. **** As Jordon continued on to the room he and Chase would share, he was startled by the sudden appearance of two young men, both gorgeous and half-dressed. "Hey, man," the dark studly one said, seriously looking him up and down. "You must be the brother. You're hot." "Ah, thanks," he said, narrowing his eyes. The other one looked like an angel. He gave Jordon a beguiling smile. "Hi, sweetie." Jordon raised a hand, turning to watch as they made their way downstairs. He took a breath, and then he turned and marched back down the hall. "Amanda!" He had to wait over ten minutes before she let him in. She had dressed in a smart white linen dress and sandals. "What's all the ruckus?" "Who were those two guys I just met?" He gave her a severe look. "Hunter and Ramsay." "And who are Hunter and Ramsay?" "Ah." She grinned at him and wrinkled up her nose. "The houseboys?" "Amanda, you said..." He pointed a finger at her. 114

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"Look, sweetie"—she slapped his finger away and took his arm ... "don't worry your gorgeous head about it. The way I see it, brother, you have other things to worry about." He made a face. "Don't remind me. Look I don't do this to be a pest. I worry about you. I wish you'd find someone, Amanda. All these strange men you..." "Listen, Mr. Moral Majority. From what I know now, you've fucked two of these strange men, so before you preach, you better learn to practice a little abstinence. Agreed?" He grumbled something under his breath. Amanda took his chin and looked into his blue eyes. "Agreed, grouch?" He sighed. "For now." "Good. Now relax and have some fun." "If Chase doesn't kill me first. I doubt he's going to let me have any fun. God knows what Scott is saying to him down there. Can you tell Scott to..." "I'll do what I can. Now get your trunks on and take a swim. Show off that body of yours and the others down there will eat you alive." He laughed and shook his head, and then headed to the bedroom to find his suitcase. **** "So," Chase said, watching as Scott took a seat by the pool, "how long did you and Jordon know each other?" "Long enough to know he has a great cock." He gave him a brilliant smile. Wow, this guy was getting pissed. This was fun. 115

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"How long ago was this again?" Chase demanded. "Is this the inquisition? Why not ask the boyfriend?" "I'm asking you." Chase glared down at him. He had intense dark blue eyes, and they were quite a beautiful contrast to his black hair. Nice. Very nice. "Well, it was a few years back, shortly after I came here to live with Amanda." "And it was once?" "What was once? "When you got to explore his great cock?" Scott laughed. "Well, Amanda was gone a week. I don't know how many times, really ... a few ... Hey, there's steam coming out of your ears, guy." Scott laughed. "You didn't even know him." "Not the point. Did he fuck all of Amanda's boys?" "I doubt he fucked all of us ... but definitely you and me." Chase turned on his heel and marched back into the house. Scott threw his head back and laughed. He was still laughing when Ramsay and Hunter appeared. "Who's the hothead?" Ramsay asked, dressed in skimpy cutoff jean shorts that were just a little too tight. "Chase. The one before you guys." "I've heard of him," Hunter said, walking out after Ramsay in a pair of spandex swim trunks that definitely got Scott's attention. "He was with another guy who got killed..." "Yeah, well," Scott cautioned, "it's a moot subject, okay?" "I saw the brother upstairs. I could lick him all over." Ramsay uttered a little moan. 116

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"He's way out of your league," Hunter said. "That's prime cock there." "I've had prime before." Ramsay gave him a defiant look. "I bet I get to taste his cock before you do." "You're on," Hunter said. "Whoa, whoa!" Scott put up a hand, laughing. "Look, Amanda told you to behave." "She said we wouldn't be doing any playroom activity," Ramsay said. "She didn't say anything about the baby brother." "You might get your ass kicked," Scott commented with a smile. "By who?" Hunter grunted. "That pussy I just saw?" Ramsay laughed. Scott raised an eyebrow. Chase didn't look like any pussy he'd ever seen. He had a feeling the guy could handle his own. "You have been warned," Scott said, pouring himself a drink from the half-empty bottle of scotch he'd taken outside with him. "Besides," he said, taking a swallow, "if anyone is going to taste prime cock around here, it will be me. See me and Jordon, we got a past." Ramsay gasped. "Do tell," he said softly, coming over and perching on the edge of a chair beside Scott. Scott glanced up at him. "I don't kiss and tell." Hunter dived into the water, apparently losing interest. "Come on, Scott," Ramsay urged. "Just tell me if he's good."

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"He's good," he smiled. "He's sweet as honey, actually, once you get past that alpha male bravado of his. And he looks even better with age." "How long ago did you do him?" "Oh, a few years back." Scott finished the drink and poured another. "Scott, do you always drink so much?" "Am I drinking a lot?" "Yeah. If you need to talk ... you know it's not good to bury your feelings deep inside or try to kill them with liquor." Scott looked up into those innocent-looking eyes of his and started to laugh. "Did I say something funny?" Ramsay looked confused. Scott glanced at Hunter, who was swimming around in the pool. "All I meant was, sometimes you need to vent your feelings. I'm here if you want to talk." "I will, if you will." Scott met his eyes. "What ... what do you mean?" "It will catch up with you," Scott told him. "You can run but you can't hide." Ramsay looked uncomfortable. He stood up. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Really? Take one look at that guy over there coming out of pool and tell me again that you don't know." Ramsay laughed a little. "You're drunk." "I may be," Scott said. "My thoughts may get cloudy once in awhile when I'm drinking, but there's one thing I see plain 118

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and clear." He drained his glass. "Like I said, Ramsay, you can run but you can't hide. It's going to find you eventually." "What's going to find him?" Hunter asked, coming up to them now, his glossy black hair dripping. "He's drunk," Ramsay scoffed, and walked back into the house. "Are you?" Hunter asked him. "Drunk?" "Yeah, man. Isn't it a little early?" Hunter took a seat on the chair beside Scott. "Probably." "So, what's your pain, man?" "Oh, Hunter, give me a fucking break," Scott told him. "You and Ramsay kill me." Hunter sat back in his chair. "I don't follow." "You think I don't know you guys knew each other before? You think I can't see beneath the surface?" "What in hell you talking about, man?" Hunter demanded. Scott closed his eyes. The combination of sun and booze was making him sleepy. "When you're ready, you'll tell me. All I'll say is, you may be fooling Amanda, but you're not fooling me. Maybe one day, we'll both decide to tell each other the truth." "Um," Hunter replied. "Right." **** Chase hadn't said a damn thing since he'd walked into the bedroom, and that was maddening because Jordon knew that once he started, he was going to have a big headache. He 119

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stood watching silently as Jordon took off his clothes and put on his bathing trunks. Finally, Jordon couldn't stand it anymore. "You know you're killing me," Jordon said, looking at him. "You know I hate it when you do this. Okay." He put his arms out in the air. "Hit me. Beat the crap out of me, use that boxing shit your perverted old stepdad taught you when you were a teenager, or fucking say what's on your mind." Chase raised an eyebrow. God, he was handsome, those blue eyes contrasting with that dark wavy hair of his. He loved him so much, too damn much. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Tell you what?" Jordon sighed. "Tell you that I fucked one of Amanda's ah ... boy toys while she went on a business trip? It was years ago." "He remembers." Chase looked down at the carpet. Jordon moved closer. "Chase. I didn't even know you. I was young, and Scott was ... well ... persuasive. I was just coming out of a bad situation. My former lover tried to kill me on the race track. I had just barely got the use of my legs back. I'd been in the hospital for a year. Scott was attractive. Chase," he said, putting his hands on his arms, "I hadn't had sex in a year! I was..." "It's not that," Chase said, shaking his head. "I can't blame you for something that happened when I wasn't even here. I just wish..." "Wish what?" he asked, taking one hand and lifting up his chin. "Wish what, baby?" "I wish I'd been here. I wish I'd been Scott." 120

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Their eyes met and Jordon drew him into his arms. "Baby. You're all I've ever wanted. There's no one else for me. It's not a few nights with Scott that I barely remember..." He paused, kissing his mouth tenderly. He heard Chase take an intake of breath. Jordon took his hand and placed it down inside his swim trunks. "Feel that. Feel how hard I am. You do that to me. Every time I'm near you. How could you think I'd ever want anyone else? Christ." He closed his eyes, rearing his head back as Chase squeezed his cock in his hand. "I love you. I love you so damn much ... I'd lose my mind if you stopped believing that." Chase's lips went to his throat. The other hand clutched the waistband of his trunks and pulled them down over his hips. Jordon felt his hot mouth snake down to his chest, capture one of his nipples between his teeth as the hand on his cock began to stroke it nice and slow. He began to tremble all over, a tongue dipping out to lick his lips. "Move to the bed," Chase told him, his voice filled with emotion, "I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you so that you remember you're mine, Jordon." His back hit the mattress, Chase's hand still stroking his cock, which was alive in his hand. A tongue moved over one nipple, then the other. The lips moved down. Jordon pressed his head back into the mattress in anticipation. Some sound came from his lips, soft, deep. His leg was being lifted and lips captured his balls. Chase yanked him downwards, practically off the bed. Both legs now up over Chase's strong shoulders. Dark blue eyes met his as a finger snaked up 121

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inside of him. "My beautiful Jordon," he whispered. "My silent lover," he smiled seductively. "I'm going to make you moan." A tongue quickly replaced the finger, slithering up inside of him, moving around in a circle, then darting in and out. Jordon's cock pulsed, his hips beginning to move up and out with an aching need. "Chase," he moaned. "Chase, Christ..." Chase lifted his head, Jordon's legs resting on his shoulders. He reached down and casually lifted his hot, dripping sex in his hand. He fondled it. "Scott was right. A beautiful cock, and right now, its aching ... my love," he whispered. "What do you want?" He was teasing him without mercy. Jordon laughed, his laugh mingled with a moan. "Please, I'll be good," he teased. "Fuck me. Come on Chase, fuck me." Chase smiled, rolling on a condom he had taken from the nightstand. He clutched his hips. He ground his cock into him, inch by inch, slowly, and Jordon heard himself do something that was rare for him during sex; he cried out, "Yes, yes." And it seemed that it was all that Chase was waiting to hear, because he drove his cock in to the hilt, and then appeared to lose all control.

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Chapter Eight When Scott opened his eyes, Amanda was climbing out of the swimming pool. He stifled a yawn and reached over for a folding towel that was sitting beside him and handed it to her. "Finally," she said, removing her bathing cap and rubbing her arms and chest with the towel. She reached for the short terry robe that she usually threw over her bathing suit, and told Clarissa, who was standing by, that she wanted a Diet Coke. "Where is everyone?" Scott inquired, squinting at his watch. It was almost five. "Well, Hunter took one of the cars a few hours ago, saying he needed to pick up some items at the drugstore. I have no idea where Ramsay is. My brother and Chase took off somewhere, said they'd be back for dinner. They were in the bedroom until two o'clock." "Ah, nothing like a bit of jealousy to stir the juices," Scott laughed, glancing at the maid who had reappeared with Amanda's Diet Coke. "Bring me a whiskey on the rocks," he said. Amanda glanced at him as Clarissa went into the house to get his drink. "Okay, since we're alone for awhile, it's time for a talk." "Amanda," he groaned, rolling his head back and forth against the back of the chair. "Scott," she said severely. "I want to know what happened between you and Ciel." 123

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Clarissa came back with the drink. When she disappeared, Amanda took it out of his hands and put it aside. "Enough drinking. You've been drinking since you got here. I know you're in pain. I know you. When Ciel left—when you told me you loved him, you said it was either Ciel, or the bottle. Nothing's changed." Scott put his hand to his forehead. "Obviously you still love him." "I hate him," Scott said between clenched teeth. "I hate him for making me love him like this." Amanda gripped his forearm. "Did you walk out on him?" "He doesn't love me." "Are you sure?" "I don't think he ever did." "Scott, that's not true. I saw his face the night he left. He was a man in torment. I can't believe he stopped loving you. What changed?" "There was someone else." "He cheated on you?" "I ... I don't know." "What do you mean, you don't know?" "He could have; at least, I accused him of doing just that." He looked at Amanda. "Did he deny it?" "Of course he did. We hadn't had sex in weeks. I wouldn't have blamed him if ... yes, I would, I would have blamed him. I wanted to kill him." "Why did you stop having sex?" "We started fighting." 124

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"About?" Amanda sipped her Coke. She took pity on Scott suddenly, and passed him his whiskey. "But no more tonight." He nodded and took the glass from her hand. "What did you fight about? You taking your clothes off at that club? I don't blame him really. It's a gay strip club, isn't it?" "Yeah." "That's worse. Why did you do it?" "I told you. We needed money and..." "You should have to come to me." "No, Amanda. We had to make it on our own. Ciel would have never allowed that. But it wasn't just the club." "What then?" She stroked his arm. "His friends at the university. They were all intellectuals, talking way above my head and ... there was one ... he was clearly falling in love with Ciel." "Darling, Ciel is gorgeous. You must have known that people would always be attracted to him. Did he sleep with this guy?" "I don't know, but I accused him of doing just that." Scott sighed. "He denied it, and then he got really distant. Amanda, it's my fault," he said desperately. "I just can't bring myself to believe Ciel loves me. He said..." He swallowed. "Go on," Amanda urged. "What did Ciel say?" "Ciel said that my insecurities would tear us apart. He said"—tears filled Scott's eyes now ... "he said that he was exhausted trying to make me believe he loved me ... that he couldn't do it anymore." He lowered his head and cried. Amanda moved closer and pulled Scott into her arms. 125

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"He told me we'd be better off apart, and so..." He sniffed, trying to control the tears. "I came here. I didn't know where else to go, and..." She hugged him harder. "I'm sorry," he said, breaking away. "I've got to find a way to go on. I'm afraid, Amanda. I'm afraid I'll fall into this big hole and I won't be able to get out. I have to stop loving him, and I don't know how." Amanda wiped at his tears, her own rolling down her cheeks. "I'm here," she said. "I'm here." Then she drew his head against her breast and rocked him like a baby. **** Jordon and Chase came back around six-thirty. They both looked flushed as if they'd been running, and they spent some time horsing around in the hallway like two boys before coming into the living room where everyone else was. Chase shook hands with Hunter and Ramsay, and apologized for not being around during the day. Jordon nodded at them and leaned down to give his sister a kiss. Hunter glanced at Jordon and Chase and thought that he'd bow out of the little bet he had with Ramsay. God, they were just too cute together. Scott had hit a nerve earlier. Hunter was beginning to wonder if Ramsay hadn't filled him in on stuff. Maybe he was just perceptive. He looked sad tonight, sitting there in the corner by the window, drinking what looked like club soda. When he noticed that the others were engrossed in conversation about current events, he got up and walked over 126

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to where Scott was sitting. "Want to go for a walk? I got something that could take away the blues." Scott glanced up at him. "The blues got you too, Hunter?" "No, man." He shook his head. "I'm just wanting to mellow out some." Scott stood up. "Let's go." "Scott and I are going for air," Hunter announced when Amanda paused in her conversation and glanced up at him. "Well, dinner is ready in a half hour. Don't go far." "No, no," he said, motioning to Scott. He glanced at Ramsay who met his eyes for a minute, then looked away. "Fuck you," he muttered under his breath. When he was outside, he began to walk fast. He didn't realize how fast until a hand reached out and grabbed him. "Hey," Scott said. "Slow it down, will ya? Where's the fire?" He laughed some, pulling out the joint and pausing to light it. He took a drag, then passed it to Scott, who sucked some into his lungs. "Thought you could use it, man," he said. "Me, or you?" Scott said. "You. You're the one going through some shit." "I'm always going through shit. Tell me about home." "You ever been?" "Yeah. With Amanda once. Cayman Islands. It was heaven." "Or hell, depending on your perspective," he laughed, beginning to walk again. The neighborhood was silent, a plethora of enormous houses hidden by electronic gates and lush foliage. The sky was growing dark, a million stars blurred by the smog. 127

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"So, you came here?" "I left Jamaica as soon as I got out of the hospital. I didn't even tell my mother." Scott glanced at him. He took another drag of the joint and passed it to Hunter. "Hospital? What happened?" "I got the shit beat of me one night. It was five guys with tire irons. They busted both my knee caps. One of 'em"—he gave a short laugh ... "well, I had sucked his cock the night before." Scott shook his head. "I'm sorry." "Yeah." "Did you report it?" "Man, ever heard some of the lyrics in the popular tunes in Jamaica? Beating on fags is considered a sport there, man, and take a look at the color of my skin. I'm considered more White than Black." Hunter passed the joint back. Scott shook his head. "I've had enough. Thanks. After you came here, did you stay with your father or...?" They kept walking. Hunter put out the joint. "My father," he laughed harshly. "He's got a whole new family. Doesn't want the little snots to know I exist. He set me up in a penthouse in Beverly Hills for awhile." "Is that when you met Ramsay?" Hunter stopped. He looked at Scott. "That's off limits, okay?" After a pause, he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap." "Why don't you want to talk about Ramsay? It's obvious that you're in love with him." 128

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He laughed a little too loud. "Hunter, you might as well tell me. I can spot a fool in love a mile away. All I have to do is look in the mirror." "What's up with that?" "You first." "Nothing to say." "Bullshit." They stopped at a small park at the end of the road. Scott took a seat on one of the swings. Hunter sat down on the one next to him. "So, you met Ramsay when your father set you up in the penthouse." Hunter nodded silently. "Was he working for Jacques then?" "Yes." He sighed. "The penthouse had belonged to some rich fuck, I can't recall who. He was going to be gone for six months. My father told me I had that long to get my shit together, then I had to be gone. I found the phone number for the Agency in this guy's digs." "How did you know what it was?" "The rich guy wrote a lot of notes in the margin beside this name ... Ramsay. Stuff like ... sweet, blond, fragile, submissive, big cock ... and then I found pictures, naked pictures that he'd taken of him. God, I'd never seen anyone so beautiful. I wanted him, so I phoned the number, pretended to be this guy, and asked for Ramsay. Of course they wouldn't let me speak to him but they started asking me if I wanted him for the whole weekend, and that it would be the usual fee, and blah, blah. I figured it out fast. I had no money," he said with a laugh, "at least not that kind of money, but I told the guy on the phone yes. I wanted him for 129

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the whole weekend, and they sent him over. Said they'd put it on my tab." Scott leaned back against the bench, his arms folded across his chest. "Tell me what happened next." Hunter's mind went back to the first time he had met Ramsay. Once he started to tell Scott the story, it was as if he were there again. He could remember being stressed right out that night when the doorbell chimed. He wondered what this guy was going to say when he saw him standing there, instead of the old fart who owned the place. Ramsay was more beautiful in person than in those photographs. He stood there, his hand on the doorjamb, baby fine hair falling across his forehead. His eyes opened wide when he saw Hunter. He tried to disguise the fact that he was checking him out by giving him a speedy once-over, then double-checking the number on the door, and saying, "Sorry, man, I must have made a mistake." "No," Hunter said, shaking his head. An angel. He was a sweet angel sent from heaven. He took his arm and pulled him inside. He was feeling rather foolish staring at him the way he was. "You're okay. I was the one ... I mean, I called." "Where's Mr. Thompson?" He glanced around, and then back at Hunter. "Ah, gone. He said I could, well, make use of ah ... everything." He met Ramsay's eyes. Ramsay shrugged, then went to throw himself on the sofa. "That was nice of him." He ran his gaze over Hunter again, 130

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this time slowly, not hiding anything. "You're buff, man. Are you one of Thompson's boys?" "Ah, no. I'm his, ah ... nephew." "Nephew? Shit, Tommy boy is as white as snow. You the black sheep of the family?" He'd apparently thought that was hilarious because he'd thrown his head back and howled with laughter. "His brother married a Jamaican," Hunter muttered. "Yes, I detected an accent," Ramsay said after he'd managed to stop laughing. "No offense, okay. It's just like your uncle is so white, and conservative, except when it comes to his sexual, ah ... proclivities. Is that a word?" "I think so, yeah." "So," he said, sitting up. "What do you like?" "Ah, music and..." "No, honey, what do you like in bed?" He met Hunter's eyes. Hunter swallowed. "Well, I ... everything, I guess." He was drowning in those eyes. "Where do you want me?" he asked, standing up, hands on his hips. "Well, we can have a drink first, or..." Ramsay smiled. "You're shy. That's sweet." "I'm not shy," Hunter began, feeling his mouth go dry as Ramsay came closer. "I know you're the client, and I'm here to do what you want, but I'd love to see you naked. You're just about the most gorgeous guy I've ever..." He reached up and touched Hunter's cheek. 131

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Hunter reached out for him and pulled him into his arms. He kissed him hotly on the mouth, the initial hesitation he felt quickly disappearing. He literally picked him up and carried him into the bedroom, dumping him on the bed. Hastily he tore off his own clothes, then switched on the light. The desire he saw in Ramsay's eyes caused a moan to rise in his chest. He licked his lips and crawled onto the bed. He reached down and peeled off Ramsay's T-shirt, then fumbled with the zip on his jeans, swearing a little when it took more effort than he expected to get those extra tight pants down over his hips. He didn't have any underwear on, which was all the better, and when his cock came into view, Hunter paused. "Shit," he whispered, "where were you hiding that?" Ramsay smiled. "Like it?" Did he like it? Jesus, it was just the icing on the cake. To be so fine-boned with such fragile translucent beauty, and then to have this big, thick, succulent cock between his legs seemed almost too much. Ramsay stretched out on the bed and lifted his arms over his head as he spread his thighs. He was posing, and Hunter just about blew his load right there. "You like?" he asked again, lifting his hips off the bed enticingly. "Tell me what you want." He jumped up on his knees, ran his hand over his chest, playing with his nipple while the other hand slapped his cock back and forth. The way he was looking at Hunter while he was playing with himself was driving him half-crazy. Hunter reached out for Ramsay's head and brought it roughly to his cock. "Christ," he hissed, "suck it, beauty. Suck it." 132

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Ramsay's hands moved up his belly as he took his cock in his mouth and began to suck. Ramsay closed his eyes, letting his head go back. Hunter dug his fingers into Ramsay's baby hair and got religion. When he started to come, Ramsay swallowed a good part of it before he fell back on the bed laughing, and exclaimed, "It's too much ... even for me." Hunter was somewhat embarrassed until Ramsay moved up close to him and wrapped his arms around his hips. He kissed his still sputtering cock, and looked up at him with those blue eyes. "You're beautiful," he whispered. "Fuck me ... if you want." "If ... if I want?" Hunter swallowed. He could hardly breathe. He wanted him so much. As soon as he laid down on the bed and Ramsay began to touch him, he was hard again. He dragged Ramsay's body on top of his and Ramsay straddled him, taking his cock into his ass, inch by inch. Hunter was sure his cock would split him apart. He looked so delicate, but he was far from it. His cock fully erect was at least eight inches. His own cock felt like heaven in Ramsay's ass. Compressed inside of him, it was suffering from a sublime aching pleasure which Ramsay took his time alleviating. Slowly, he moved up and down Hunter's shaft, using it, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from it. They came together, Ramsay shouting out, "Oh baby ... oh baby ... yes..." while all he could do was lie there and stare up into the seraphic face, and wait until Ramsay's body flooded with his essence, which was ecstasy.

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Hunter couldn't go on. His bottom lip was trembling. He almost shouted when Scott reached out and touched his hand. "Hunter," he said. "Then what happened?" "We were inseparable, of course. Ramsay came back, and back again, off the clock. We went places together. We were falling in love." "And?" Hunter stood up. This was painful, more painful than anything else in his entire life. Even being despised in Jamaica for his color, or lack of it, and for his sexual orientation, was easier to rehash than this. "Five months. We were together almost three months. I thought ... yeah ... this is love." The tears threatened. He swallowed hard. "I'd never felt it ... I mean, my mother loved me well enough but we were pretty poor, and..." He stopped. "My father, well, he had another family, and he didn't want his new family to know about me. When he came to tell me Thompson was coming back, he seemed relieved to get rid of me. He tried to give me money ... a few grand. I threw it at him." "I'm sorry," Scott said. He shrugged. "That wasn't the worst. I guess I expected that. What I didn't expect was that Ramsay would..." Scott stood up. He came to stand beside him. "When I told him the truth, he got really quiet. Then he told me that it was over." "Why?" "He wants to find a ... well, a rich man who will take him under his wing, I guess. He wants to live in luxury, be kept. 134

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He had it hard on the streets, damn near starved to death. He's terrified of being poor." "But he does love you." "Yeah," Hunter said, turning around and meeting Scott's eyes, "or he did until he decided he loved money more. From that moment on, he told me he'd help me in any way he could, but that there was no more us, because you see, I wasn't the nephew of a rich man. I was some poor fuck from Jamaica who would never see a cent of his father's money anyhow. So, I was out on my ass. Ramsay told me he'd take me to the Agency, introduce me to Jacques, and then it was out of his hands. I didn't want this, Scott. I really didn't, but it's the only way I have to stay close to Ramsay. Then when Amanda chose both of us to be together like this, I couldn't turn it down because..." He sighed. "Christ, it's like knocking my head up against a brick wall." Scott put his arms around Hunter and pulled him close. "Love sucks," he hissed, then he laughed. He released him. Hunter noticed the one tear which was running down his face, and suddenly he wanted to kiss it away. "Scott," he said hoarsely. He reached out to touch him and Scott shook his head, taking a step backwards. "I don't think I could, Hunter." Hunter nodded. "Tell me about Ciel now?" Scott began walking back in the direction of the house. "Ciel is ... he is the one who causes my heart to beat. My body, my very soul, belongs to him." Hunter felt shaken by those words. There was nothing left to say. They walked in silence until they reached Amanda's 135

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door.

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Chapter Nine Dinner was delicious. Amanda was having a great time, although she was a bit concerned with Scott's drinking. When he got drunk, he could get belligerent and she was afraid he'd piss off Chase, who seemed to be on alert every time Scott got within a few feet of Jordon. On one hand, it was kind of cute, but on the other, Amanda knew that Chase's stepfather had taught him to box as a teenager, and that he could knock Scott on his ass, especially in his inebriated condition. After dinner, Amanda suggested they play charades. Jordon tried to bow out, but Chase wouldn't let him. Hunter and Ramsay sat on opposite sides of the living room, hardly acknowledging each other. In fact, Ramsay barely said two words all night. Hunter stayed close to Scott, and they played on the same team with her, against Chase and Jordon, who kept pleading with Ramsay to help them out. It was hilarious, and they were all having a good time until later when it was again Scott's turn to act out something. Amanda knew she should have suggested they stop playing before it was Scott's turn again, because he was very drunk by the time he got up and stood in the center of the room. In hindsight, she knew she had underestimated how far he could go when he was suffering. "Now," he said, draining his glass, "let's play a different game. Let's play ... a reality game!" Amanda narrowed her eyes. "Darling, why don't we call it a night now? I'm tired, and..." 137

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"No, no, Amanda," he said, smiling at her. "You can all go to bed after my turn. It's my damn turn." His voice rose a bit, causing everyone else in the room to pay attention. There was total silence. "Good," he said. "Now that I have your attention. You know, I was thinking Amanda, this is quite a little party you have here. All of your boys ... together ... except Ciel, of course ... but fuck him. Did you know that your sister," he said, looking over at Jordon, who was reclining back on the sofa, Chase's hand on his upper thigh, "went on a quest to find the most beautiful man on earth?" "No," Jordon replied gently, "I didn't know that." Jordon looked at Amanda. Amanda could see the compassion in Jordon's eyes. He was perceptive enough to recognize pain when he saw it. Scott's eyes stayed on Jordon and Chase. "Do you know what you have there, Chase?" "Yes, Scott," he said sincerely. "I do. I know what I have and I thank God every day for it." He squeezed Jordon's thigh. Jordon kissed him gently on the mouth. Scott shook his head. "Don't ever fuck around with that. If it's love, don't fuck with it." "I won't," Chase said. "Scott, why don't you come outside for some air?" He stood up, holding out his hand. Scott put up a hand. "Look at us." He turned to Ramsay. "Look at you, you pathetic piece of shit hiding out, waiting for some rich old fart!" "Scott!" Amanda protested, looking at Chase, who had moved closer to Scott. 138

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"Wait," he said, pointing at Chase. "I'm not finished yet." Chase paused. He cast a look back at Jordon, who stood up now too. "You look at Hunter," Scott growled under his breath. "You look at him and..." "Scott, don't," Hunter said. He shook his head, and disappeared from the room. Ramsay's gaze followed him, then returned to look at Scott. "What is this all about? What in hell have I ever done to you? Just because your lover doesn't want you anymore, you don't have to..." "Ramsay," Jordon cut him off sharply. "Enough. He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's talking about." "I know more than you think." He pointed at Jordon. "I've had to learn the hard way. Everyone in this room is afraid ... afraid of getting their hearts torn to threads. We fuck and we fuck, and if we don't love, then it's okay. We walk away untouched. But if we love, we don't survive, our hearts don't..." He stopped. He looked at Amanda. "I love you, Mandy, but I had to leave you. I had to go after Ciel ... he was the one who, I wasn't alive until I looked into his eyes. Now that I'm alive, I want to die," he said. "Jesus, I just want to die." When he reached down and picked up the coffee table and tipped it on its side, Chase and Jordon lunged for him. He struggled, fighting them tooth and nail but they quickly overpowered him, pressing him down onto the sofa. When Scott finally went motionless, Jordon glanced at Chase, and said, "Let me. Go to bed." 139

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Chase nodded. He motioned to Amanda and Ramsay, and they quietly left the room. **** Jordon was grateful that Chase hadn't challenged him on this. Earlier today, Jordon had told him that no matter what he'd done in the past and with whom, he would never love another. Chase had his heart, and he knew that this Ciel had Scott's. He pulled Scott up into his arms and held him. He smelt of gin and sweat. "I'm not letting go," Jordon told him. An agonizing sob rose from Scott's depths, and he gave in to it for a few minutes. The agony was too much for Jordon. He found himself choked with emotion, suddenly afraid, afraid that this could be him if Chase ever stopped loving him. Finally Scott lay quiet, and Jordon thought that maybe he'd gone to sleep or passed out. Jordon was surprised when he heard him speaking. "I'm sorry," he said. "What are you apologizing for exactly?" Scott raised his head. He met his eyes. "I'm a fucking mess." He laughed a little, wiping the tears off his face. Jordon nodded, then smiled. "Yep, no argument there." Scott's hand came up and touched Jordon's hair. He searched his eyes. "God, you feel good. I'd forgotten how good." "Scott, I..." Jordon wiggled a little as he felt a hand cover his thigh. "I'm so horny," he whispered. "I miss Ciel so much, Jordon, and I still remember." A hand clamped on Jordon's 140

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neck and before he knew it Scott was kissing him. It was a deep, sensuous kiss meant to go much further. Jordon was lulled into that hot man kiss for a moment before he suddenly woke from its spell and he pushed him away. "Scott," he said, breathless. "What in fuck are you doing?" Scott turned around on the sofa and put his face in his hands. "I don't know." "Listen to me." Jordon yanked his hands away from his face. "There's only one man that's going to scratch that itch of yours, and it's not me." He nodded. "I know that." "I love Chase." "I know that too. It's only a fuck." "You're right. It's only a fuck, a fuck which wouldn't mean anything to either one of us, except that it would kill Chase. You want me to change places with you on that sofa?" "No," he groaned. "Where in fuck is this Ciel now?" "I think he's at home. I don't know." "Listen to me, Scott, listen. You can drink yourself into a stupor and fuck every man in this house, but it isn't going to help. You're still going to wake up tomorrow morning without him. You need to go to him." "I can't ... I'm a total fuck-up, Jordon," he said. "You know that." "No, I don't know that. But if you believe it, then it must be true. Do you love him or not?" "Do you have to ask? Jesus Christ!" He stood up. 141

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"Does he love you?" "I don't know," he said, walking over and looking out on the lonely night. "That's just it, Jordon. I can't ever be sure. I feel it in my heart, but my head has these doubts." "Well, I guess you'll have decide which part of you to listen to. You need to find him, talk to him." "Yeah, I know." He nodded. "I'm just not ready for that." "When I hold Chase in my arms," Jordon told him, "when I look in his eyes, when I feel him tremble from my touch, it's not my mind that believes, it's my heart ... my soul." A faint smile touched Scott's lips. "Go upstairs and hold that guy, will ya?" He turned around and looked at him. "Tell him I said he's one lucky son of bitch. And don't think I don't remember what a good fuck you are." Jordon smiled. He stood up. "I think I'll leave that last part out." Scott waved him away. "Go on. I'll be fine." Jordon paused for a second at the doorjamb and looked over at him. "Oh, Scott," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "I seem to remember a few things about you in that department as well." He rolled his eyes and shook his hand in front of his chest, which caused Scott to give him a slow smile. "Better go to bed, stud." "Um"—he licked his lips ... "before I decide a quick roll around on that sofa might be worth it." He raised a hand at him, and hightailed it upstairs to where Chase was waiting. **** 142

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Jordon's birthday party went off without a hitch. Take-out pizza and a big chocolate cake. He was pleased. Everyone sang "Happy Birthday" and went out of their way to be cordial. When Chase and Jordon were just about to leave the next day for their flight to Europe, Amanda held on to her brother for a long time. Jordon stayed with her at the door, holding her, kissing the top of her head. "You know I love you, Amanda," he said. "I always have." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and nodded. "Me too. I'm sorry for all the time I wasted. I could have been a better sister, a better..." He shook his head. "It's okay now. Let's just look forward to the future." She nodded, running a thumb over his cheek. "Handsome," she said with a smile. "You look like Daddy." He made a face. "He was a miserable old bastard, but he was handsome enough to stop traffic." Jordon kissed her again. "Will you stop on the way back?" "Maybe. I'll call you from Europe. Love you," he said, kissing her again, then running down the steps to get into the taxi beside Chase. They both waved at her. She didn't realize she was crying until she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind. Scott kissed her cheek. She turned around and cried a bit against him. "He'll be back," Scott said. "I'm happy to see how much closer you've grown. I remember how it was before." 143

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She nodded, putting her arm around his waist and walking back into the dining room. "Daddy liked to keep us separated. He didn't want us to get close. But he's dead now, and Jordon and I have years to love each other." Scott nodded. "I'm glad. Jordon is a nice guy. And Chase, well, they really love each other. It's great to see." "Yes," she said as she poured them each a cup of coffee. "And how are you?" "I'm feeling a little better," he said. "You and Jordon had a talk last night?" "Yeah. We almost had more than that." He grinned and raised his eyebrows. Amanda looked alarmed. "Scott! Chase!" "I said almost." He smiled. "He's too hung up on that big brute, unfortunately." She nodded, sipping her coffee. "Good. Jordon makes Chase happy. So, now I find out that you had broken the rules when I was out of town." "Huh?" "You had sex with my brother when I was gone." "Oh, that," he laughed. "Not 'oh that.'" "Amanda, it was years ago." She nodded, then grinned. "I suspect it wasn't the first or the last time you broke the rules." He grinned again, and changed the subject. "I'm going downtown today. Can I borrow a car?" "Sure." 144

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"I'm going to try and get my job back, and find a place to..." "Stay here, Scott. Don't go back to that place." "Amanda, I can't." Their eyes met. "What about Ciel?" "I have to learn to live without him, because I can't live with him. I know it's me now, not him. Ciel told me I was damaged. He was right." Amanda couldn't speak. With her heart in her throat, she watched him get up and walk out. **** It was late afternoon. Amanda had fallen asleep by the pool. Hunter had asked Amanda about some personal trainer Scott had mentioned to him, and she had set him up with an appointment. He had gone with the driver an hour ago. Ramsay told her that he wanted to watch some movie on television. The house was finally quiet. When she felt someone nudging her, she blinked her eyes open to see Ramsay leaning over her. "Amanda," he said. He looked flushed. "What?" What is it?" She sat up. "I just saw the most beautiful man. I don't know who in hell he is, but he's a walking hard-on ... dark hair and eyes like..." "Ciel," she said, pushing Ramsay aside. "Where? Where is he?" "Hello, Amanda," said a deep male voice with a faint echo of a French accent. 145

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Amanda's mouth fell open. There he was. He was standing near the open patio door, less than a few feet away, wearing dark sunglasses, his straight black hair blowing softly about his broad shoulders. His square jaw was adorned with a rough shadow, giving the beauty of his exquisite face a sensuous accent. A loose-fitting white tank top profiled his muscular biceps to perfection, hanging over a strategically ripped pair of faded jeans and scuffed black boots. God, she had forgotten what a feast for the eyes he was, and she knew what he kept inside those pants. He had the same effect on her now that he had when she'd first laid eyes on him. He damn near took her breath away. "Ramsay," she said, "go inside now." Ramsay nodded silently, taking one long last look at Ciel, and biting his fist before slipping back inside. Amanda could hardly believe her eyes. "Ciel," she said. "How are you?" She tried to sound casual, but her voice was trembling. She wanted to hug him, but just from his stance, she thought better of it. He shrugged, glancing around. "Is Scott here?" "Yes," she said breathlessly, "but not at the moment." "Where is he?" "He went, ah ... downtown." She didn't want to tell him that he had gone to get his old job back at that club. "You can wait until he gets back." She felt the tension radiating off him. He shook his head. "Tell him I was here." He turned on his heel, and Amanda rushed forward. She grabbed his arm. "Please, Ciel. He's suffering. He loves you so 146

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much." She felt him stiffen. She let go of his arm when he didn't answer. As soon as she relinquished her hold on him, he continued walking inside. She followed on his heel. "Will you come back?" He stopped at the front door. He turned and looked at her from behind those dark glasses. "I don't know." "Please," she said. "I'll try," he said, moving out the door. "Ciel," she called after him, causing him to pause on the pathway, "do you hate me?" He turned now, and looked in her direction. "Why should I hate you, Amanda?" "Do you blame me for this because I...?" "You didn't make Scott hate himself. In fact, you're the only one he ever truly believed loved him. He needs you, although he'll never tell you that." Tears accumulated in her eyes. "Please promise you'll come back." "I'll try," he repeated with a nod, and continued walking. There was a Harley sitting at the curb. She watched as Ciel took a helmet off the back, put it on, then straddled the bike. Seconds later he was roaring off down the road. When she walked back inside, still in shock, Ramsay got up from the sofa and came up to her in the hallway. "Was that Scott's Ciel?" "Yes," she said blankly. "That was Scott's Ciel." "He's, ah ... gorgeous." "Yes, I know," she said absently. 147

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"So, that's a good sign that he came here looking for Scott, isn't it?" Amanda glanced at him as if she'd only just noticed he was there. "When did you begin to care about all this?" "What do you mean?" "Well, I didn't think you really were paying too much attention." He shrugged. "I don't get pleasure out of seeing anyone that miserable," he said softly. Amanda went back outside, and sat in her chair. She closed her eyes a minute. Scott should have been here. It wasn't fair. Ciel finally comes, and he's gone. Maybe, maybe it was for the best that he wasn't here. She hadn't gotten good vibes from Ciel at all. Damn him. He wouldn't even let her see those black eyes of his. She could tell a lot from those eyes. No. He was hiding. Why hadn't she said something? Why hadn't she gotten down on her knees and begged him to wait until Scott got back? When she heard someone calling her name, she knew instantly it was Scott. Ciel had left less than five minutes ago, and here he was. She opened her eyes, trying to look cheerful, but it was a challenge. Life could be so unfair sometimes, so damn cruel. He was talking about that stupid club. "I've got a raise and my own dressing room..." "Fuck that," Amanda snapped, standing up. The chair tipped over. Scott's mouth formed an O. 148

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"Fuck that strip club. How could you? How could you when you know Ciel doesn't want you to?" "It's none of Ciel's business, at least not anymore." "He was here," she shouted at him. "Damn you, Scott, are you trying to punish me for something?" "Punish you? This has nothing to do with you, and what do you mean, he was here?" It did have something to do with her. She had brought Ciel here from France. She had given him to Scott on his birthday. "He was." She ran a hand through her hair. Scott was shaking. He grabbed her arm. "Why didn't you make him stay?" Amanda pushed away from him. "You don't make Ciel do anything. He said he was coming back. Well, he said maybe." "Maybe?" "Yes, maybe. He wasn't overly talkative. In fact, he hardly said anything at all. And for Christ's sakes"—she threw up her hands ... "don't mention that stupid club to him. You boys, damn it, you're all about to drive me nuts! And you wonder why I don't want a relationship. Watching you guys fall in love is enough to make me join the damn convent!" Scott paused for a second, stunned, then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard, he doubled over and the tears ran down his face. Amanda, suddenly realizing what she had said, started to laugh too. Scott walked over, still laughing, and took her into his embrace. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Mandy, you're a scream. That's why I love you so much. You, in a 149

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convent? I know one thing, honey, if you joined the convent, the place would never be the same again."

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Chapter Ten "So, how much does it pay really?" Ramsay asked as he sat on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. "Why?" Scott asked dryly. "Are you considering a career as a dancer? I thought you were looking for a rich sugar daddy." "Who told you that?" "I guessed. You won't find many rich men hanging out at that place. The kind of men you're looking for won't be seen in those places. They go through the Agency. They pay the boys for private dances in the bedroom." Ramsay leaned back on his palms. "After I leave here, I'll ask Jacques to send me back to some of my regulars. There were some real possibilities there. One of them told me I was his ultimate fantasy and that..." "You're dreaming," Scott told him, sipping on a club soda. He was making an earnest attempt to stay on the wagon for a few days. Ramsay jumped to his feet. "What did you say that for?" "Sugar daddies are fairy tales. They'll tell you anything to make sure you're willing to do what they want. You're good to fuck, that's about it. Do you honestly think they're going to make you a part of their lives? Many of them are in the closet, married..." Ramsay opened his mouth and then closed it. "The most you can hope for is an expensive gift once in awhile, or a weekend getaway to some exotic place where you'll spend your time in bed." 151

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"You need to drink," Ramsay snapped. "You're nicer when you're drunk." "I live in a fantasy world too, when I'm high. The difference between you and me is, you live there even when you're sober as a judge. Nice trick." "Fantasy world?" "That's right, honey. You're going to wake up one day, but it might be too late. What was most precious might be gone." "Fuck you, Scott." Ramsay threw the words at him. "I'm tired of your bullshit philosophy, like the other night when you decided to pick on me. I'm not sure what kind of a problem you got with me, but..." "You're a fake and a fraud." Scott glanced at him. "You smile and look innocent, but inside you got a heart encased in granite." "Maybe I've had to protect my heart." Ramsay challenged him with those light blue eyes. "Maybe if I don't look out for me, I'll end up..." He stopped. "All I have are my looks, my cock, nothing else. If it affords me some security, then so be it. I live in reality. You're the one who lives in a fantasy world, believing that you could actually have love ever after with that hunk I saw yesterday." "Don't you speak to me about Ciel. You know nothing about Ciel." Scott pointed at him angrily. "Love is a luxury not everyone can afford." "True, but unfortunately love doesn't know that. It won't conform to your rules. It's unruly, it's messy, and it's fucking damn inconvenient." 152

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Ramsay was just about to walk off when Scott said sharply, "You're breaking his heart." Ramsay didn't turn around. "I can't think about that." "You'll regret it one day more than you've ever regretted anything else in your life. Mark my words, Ramsay." "Warning is noted. But notice, I'm not the one suffering; you are. Better follow your own advice before you start dishing it out to others," he said coldly. "One day he'll get tired of waiting," Scott said, then sighed. He stood up and went over to the small table where there was a bottle of gin. To hell with the wagon. "He'll do what he's got to do I guess," Ramsay said without emotion, then glanced at Scott with the glass in his hand. "I was kidding about the ... you really don't need to drink." Scott paused in midswallow. "Yes," he said. "I do." Ramsay shrugged, and disappeared into the house. **** Amanda sat quietly at the head of the dinner table with Hunter and Ramsay sitting on either side of her, facing each other. She was not feeling very happy at the moment. She had had an argument with Scott a few minutes before sitting down to dinner. He told her he had to go to work ... to that club, and he mentioned that some guy down there offered him a room in his apartment, and that he'd be leaving to go live there in a few days. Hunter and Ramsay had heard the argument from where they sat in the living room, and neither of them had said anything. 153

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"Well," she said finally, forcing a smile, "how's the roast beef?" "Delicious," Hunter said. Ramsay nodded, his mouth full. "I want to apologize to both of you," she said, smiling at one, then the other. "You've only just arrived and all this ... mess," she said, forcing air between her teeth. Ramsay touched her hand. "It's all right, Amanda. We understand, don't we, Hunter?" Hunter swigged back some wine. "It's not your fault." "Scott should be here. What if Ciel comes back tonight?" She chewed her thumbnail. "Amanda," Hunter said. "You can't make yourself responsible. If Scott wanted to be here, he would. Maybe he's decided to try and make it on his own and forget Ciel." Ramsay glanced at him, then at Amanda. "You can make yourself stop loving someone if you really try." "Is that so?" Hunter asked him, tilting his head to the side. "Yeah," he replied, holding his gaze in a challenge, "it's so." Amanda looked at them for a second. "What in hell is it with you two? I never know what you're going on about." "It's nothing," Ramsay said softly, looking down at his plate. "Hunter doesn't understand anything." "I don't?" Hunter demanded. "No," he said, meeting his eyes, "you fucking well don't." "Screw you," Hunter said, standing up and scraping back his chair. 154

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Amanda stood up with him. "Okay, that's enough. Tonight, we get back to business. I intend to get what I paid for. Stop this soap opera, or tell me what's wrong." Hunter shrugged as if nothing had happened. "No soap opera, and you know what? For once, Ramsay, I agree with you." Ramsay glanced at him. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah. One can talk oneself out of being in love if they really want to. I'm beginning to understand how to do that." "Good. Go right ahead," he said, then smiled at Amanda. "It's okay, Amanda. We understand each other now. Hunter and I are cool." Amanda nodded. "Good. Tonight, let's forget all this shit and have some fun." She pushed away her half-eaten food. "In the playroom in, let's say an hour?" "Sure," Hunter said. Ramsay jumped up and kissed her cheek. "We'll give you a real good show tonight, Amanda." She squeezed his hand and then left the dining room. Hunter glanced over at Ramsay, who had sat back down and begun to eat again. He sighed, letting his back fall back against the chair. He'd always thought that Ramsay was pathetic, but it was he who was the pathetic one, agreeing to come here with him in the first place, with the hopes that Ramsay would suddenly, what ... declare his undying love for him? If Ramsay truly loved him, he would have given up those so-called ambitions of his already. Yes, clearly it was he who was pathetic. It seemed that Ramsay knew exactly what he wanted, and he hadn't strayed 155

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from that. All his life all Hunter wanted was to be accepted for who he was ... not Black, not White ... just him, biracial, gay, the son of a poor woman from Jamaica and a powerful, rich white man. All his life he'd waited for someone else to tell him he was okay, to give him a seal of approval, and he was still fucking waiting for the one he loved to love him back. Well, it looked as if he wasn't ever going to. If Ramsay had ever really loved him, it had been for the wrong reasons. It had been back when Ramsay had thought he was well-connected, the rich nephew of some old fart. The joke was, he was the son of a rich man, but that man would never acknowledge him as his son. "What are you looking at me like that for?" Ramsay asked, pushing his empty plate away. "Like what exactly?" "Like I don't know ... weird." Hunter smiled at him. "Let's not fight anymore, okay?" "Suits me." "Let's get through these three months here with Amanda, and then move on." Ramsay cast him a guarded look. "You mean go back to the Agency." Hunter shook his dark head. "Not me." "Where are you going?" "I don't know. Maybe Scott can help me to..." "Scott," he scoffed. "That guy can't even help himself. Look at the mess he's made of his life!" Hunter didn't comment. 156

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"I did you a favor setting you up with the Agency. Are you going to throw it all away?" Hunter stood up. "Maybe." Then he paused, looking at him again. "And are you sure you did it for me, or did you do it more for yourself?" Ramsay started to say something but didn't get the chance. Hunter left the table. He made his way to his room, deciding to take a rest before getting back to the real reason he was here. Amanda had given him some money, but he wasn't going to spend any of it. When his time was up, he was leaving here, and leaving Los Angeles. He was finished with hoping that his father was going to suddenly welcome him into his life. He was finished thinking that at any minute Ramsay would decide that he loved him again. No, he was just going to hold on until that day, and then maybe, eventually, he'd get Ramsay out of his heart. **** Bud was a short, balding man with a belly which hung over his pants. The dark suit jacket did nothing to disguise his girth or the serious sweat stains which seemed to be permanently set under his arms. He was a bit of a good ol' boy from down South who had propelled himself out of the gutter and into the ownership of one of the most lucrative gay strip joints in L.A. He was a gay-curious oddball with absolutely no social graces, parading his trashy wife around as if she were royalty. 157

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He was not making Scott's first night back easy. "We got a full house, Scott," he said, poking his head into the dressing room where Scott was staring at himself in the mirror. "You better be good tonight." He pointed his finger at him. "The others are jealous, want to know why you got a dressing room all to yourself, especially after that brute of a boyfriend came a-flying in here and punching out my good paying customers." "I told you," Scott said coldly, "you don't have to worry about him anymore. Give me some peace, will ya? You'll get your money's worth tonight. I bring in the crowd, don't I?" "Well, since we put your picture back up, response has been good. Some white boys out there want to do your black ass. You might consider being more accommodating with that tight little butt later. Just remember you're operating out of my place ... and I don't want no vice cop shaking down my boys ... so be discreet-like. But if you get your ass done for a fee, I expect my cut, boy." "I'm not your boy," Scott said. "And what are you, a pimp now, Bud?" His head shot up. "I ain't nothing but a businessman, and you'd do good to remember that," he said, withdrawing his head and shutting the door behind him. Scott stood up. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was naked except for a white G-string which showed off his ass to perfection. That weird little guy would be coming in any minute now to oil him down. He lit the joint that Hunter had given him before he left Amanda's and took a few puffs. It 158

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made him mellow, gave him the courage he needed to propel himself out on that stage and strut his stuff. "Scott," a voice said. "It's Walter. Can I come in?" He was knocking. Scott stubbed out the joint and told him to come in. Walter had the bottle of oil in his hand. "Ready?" Scott noticed Walter's eyes eating up every inch of him. "Poor Walter," Scott said. The joint made him horny as hell. Walter glanced at him. He was no more than twenty-five, and hadn't been blessed with good looks. Maybe that's why he surrounded himself with beauty. His skin was pockmarked and kind of grey; he was also really skinny and probably not well-endowed. He figured Walter was lonely, and probably felt like shit all the time. Ironically, at this moment, they were kindred spirits. Scott faced the wall, his palms against it, spreading his legs a little. If he didn't look at him, he could imagine just about anyone was touching him. "Come on, Walter," he urged, "do me. Rub that oil into my body, and then you can do the front. Make me shine all over, baby." "Ah ... okay, Scott, sure," he replied nervously, his hands running over his back, then down to his ass where he took his time rubbing the oil into each cheek. Scott closed his eyes as a hand dipped down to his inner thigh, brushing against his cock. The hands moved down his legs, massaging the oil in, and Scott could hear Walter's breathing go shallow. He turned around, and glanced down at him. Unhooking one end of the G-string, he lowered it, revealing his stiff cock. "Want to suck it, Walter?" 159

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Walter moaned, then he took Scott's cock in his hand and spread his oily fingers over the shaft. "God, you're so beautiful." He moaned again, rubbing his cheek against it. Scott pushed his head against the wall. His eyes closed. "Suck it, God damn it," he growled, grabbing Walter's head. Walter's hands moved up his back legs and clutched his ass as he took him into his mouth. It didn't matter that he wasn't very good at it. Scott just wanted the ache to go away. **** Hunter was already in Amanda's playroom when Ramsay walked in. "Where's Amanda?" "She's on the phone with Jordon. She said to wait." "What did you think of her brother?" "He's buff. Gorgeous blue eyes, well-hung. Chase is a lucky guy. They seem really into each other." "Won't last," Ramsay said, marching around the room. "How do you know?" He shrugged. "These gay things don't last." "Given divorce rates, it looks like these straight things don't either." Hunter sat down on the floor. Ramsay fell silent. He leaned against the mirror on the opposite side of the room and waited. Amanda came in a few minutes later, dressed in her terry cloth robe. "Hey," she said, smiling. "Sorry about that. Jordon was telling me about this great painting he bought in Italy. I think, if I play my cards right, he's shipping it to me as a gift. He likes to tease. He says its right up my alley, a naked man lying on a fur rug." 160

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"Are they having fun?" Hunter asked, grinning. "Yes. A great time. They've extended the trip for an extra week. I'm glad Jordon is taking some time off finally. He works too hard. He designs race cars, you know. He used to race them himself." Amanda unbelted her robe, and climbed up onto her chair, completely naked. She glanced at Ramsay. "Hand me my studded vibrator, will you, love? I'm ready for something special tonight, boys." Ramsay handed her the vibrator. "Is it good?" he asked, examining it. "It hits all the right spots exactly when I want it to. How would you like something like that up your ass, honey?" He grinned. "If that's what you'd like to see." "I would," she growled. "Well, my fierce Hunter," she said, glancing at him. "Can you show this little boy what happens when he teases but doesn't please?" Hunter picked himself up off the floor. He inclined his head. "Want us to play rough tonight, do ya, mistress?" She smiled. "Oh yeah, baby." The vibrator began to hum. "Ramsay, you're going to get it good." She met his eyes. "Get naked. Mama has some tension to work off." Hunter watched as Ramsay stripped off his shirt and his shorts, then he took off his own clothes, his chest heaving a little with excitement. Come on, Amanda, tell me what you want. "Do what you feel, Hunter, just as long as you do it rough. Take him. He's yours to do what you want with." The vibrator was moving slowly in and out of Amanda's body. She licked her lips, waiting. 161

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Hunter glanced around the room. Well, since Amanda wasn't going to give him any specific instructions, he'd just have to use his imagination. **** Scott came in Walter's mouth, but it had nothing to do with Walter. It seemed that Walter had been sucking on his cock forever. At one point it seemed as if he'd gone into some kind of trance. Scott had closed his eyes. He pictured Ciel. He could see those black eyes gazing at him, beautiful hands moving over his body, beautiful cock moving inside of him, his voice. He said, "Scott ... je t'aime," and that was it. He exploded. "I can clean you up, lick you clean if you like," Walter said, pleading with his eyes. Scott pushed him away, then patted his shoulder, not wanted to be cruel. He went over to the sink. "No, I'll do it," he said, washing himself off, then reaching for a towel. He heard the applause, and he knew that Freeman, the other dancer, was finished. There was a song in between, and then he was up. Walter was rubbing oil on him again. Scott grabbed the bottle and spread some on his chest. "I'm all right," he said. "Go on." Walter regarded him like a sad puppy, then practically raced out of the dressing room. Scott sighed. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't had led him on, given him the impression that anything was possible between them. "Damn." 162

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He placed the oil on the dressing table and headed to the door. When he stepped up onto the stage, and began to slowly move his body to the rhythm of the music, he blocked out all the faces and noise around him. Hands reached for him, money waved in the air, and he forced himself to move closer. A multitude of fingers caressed him, moaning and groaning as he gyrated his cock in their desperate faces. The song ended; a slower one began and he teased them, flirting with the fastening on his G-string, pulling it down, then up, then whipping it off, slinging it around his neck. He began to crawl across the stage, legs open, giving the customers what they had come there to see. He could see Bud out of the corner of his eye standing at the bar with a glass of warm iced tea in his hand, nodding his approval as the crowd got rowdier. He got on his feet, began to hump his pole up and down, displaying his ass to the leering men, he knew were thinking of nothing now except how they'd want to use it to pump their hard aching organs into, lonely, desperate men with no one to love. He clutched the pole, moving his hips in and out, head back, groaning in fake orgasm, and then he saw him. Ciel. He was standing nearby, less than a few feet from the stage. Their eyes met and for a minute he couldn't look away. He was riveted, spellbound, wanting desperately to read the expression on his beautiful face. My Ciel. Fuck you, he thought. Fuck you. He ripped his gaze away and redoubled his gyrating efforts as the song wound down. It didn't matter what he thought. What was he doing here? How did Ciel know that he would be here? He hurried off the stage without his 163

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bows, the sweat coating his oily skin. He wrenched open the door to his dressing room and then slammed it shut, landing heavily against it. He closed his eyes, hyperventilating. Bud wouldn't let Ciel back here. He'd probably already gotten the bouncer on his tail after what he'd pulled the last time. Scott opened his eyes, propelling himself off the door. He stood there, waiting, almost holding his breath. He expected the door to fly open, or a knock, or ... nothing. Had the bouncer thrown him out? Was he hurt? He wouldn't allow that big ox to hurt him. He threw on a robe and went out into the hallway. The next dancer was up. The crowd was cheering. Scott peeked around the corner, then scanned the room. He couldn't see him anywhere. When he turned around, he came face to face with Bud. "If you're looking for that asshole boyfriend of yours, he's gone. We didn't even have to kick his ass out this time. He left all on his own. He's not going to be trouble, is he?" Scott couldn't speak. He brushed past Bud and practically flew to the door. He opened it and peered outside onto the street. He didn't see him anywhere. Maybe he'd just imagined it. **** Before Ramsay knew what was happening, Hunter had handcuffed both his wrists to the round bar which jutted out from the far mirrored wall. Then he pulled one of his legs up and to the side and shackled his ankle to a ring in the floor which was especially meant for that, then moved to the other leg and did likewise. Ramsay now sat with his knees up and 164

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pointing outwards, stretched to the limit. He had rendered him exposed and helpless, which Amanda seemed to appreciate immensely. As Hunter stood there looking down at him, Ramsay felt his cock harden. His nipples ached, the cool air in the room seeming to tighten them into hard little buds. He licked his lips in anticipation, his gaze moving up Hunter's thigh and settling on his cock. He had a great cock and a luscious, hardmuscled physique. Hunter walked over to Amanda's toy chest and brought back several contraptions. "This is a cock ring," he said. "I'm going to put it on your cock so that you stay hard a long time. God, you have a beautiful cock, Ramsay, so big." He leaned down and moved it back and forth a few times. Ramsay grunted. "Like that?" He held it in his hand for a minute, then slipped the cock ring down to the base. It was tight. His cock pulsed. Ramsay put his head back against the mirror. "This here," Hunter said, "is called a sleeve." He ran his fingers over the long slender instrument. "Once I put it up your ass, it expands, it vibrates, and you see this edge here ... it's to hit your G-spot." Amanda made a little sound in her throat, then she said, "Do it, Hunter." "First," he said, turning it on and running it over Ramsay's lips, "let's take care of those nipples." Ramsay moaned as the vibrating instrument moved back and forth over his left nipple for a few seconds before moving 165

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down to his cock, then his balls. He brought his hips forward when Hunter moved it away. Hunter laughed. "Horny, baby?" Ramsay swallowed, watching as he played with a pair of nipple clamps. "Let's play with your nipples a bit." He leaned down and pinched one with his fingers, clamped it, then did the other. A long chain dangled across his belly, and Hunter grabbed it and looped it around his cock, which was held upwards by the cock ring. The pressure of his cock on the chain tugged at his nipples, just enough to make Ramsay moan. Next he walked over to Amanda and took the tie of her robe. She gazed at him curiously, rubbing scented oil into her breasts. He leaned down and gazed into Ramsay's eyes. "Open your mouth, whore," he said. Ramsay opened it, and Hunter rammed the tie in his mouth. "That way you can't scream." The tie tasted dry and gross in his mouth, but he quickly forgot about it as he shifted his weight some and the chain attached to the nipple clamps tugged at his nipples. The instrument in Hunter's hand was still humming as he began to rub lube into it. "The sleeve expands to three inches across and eleven inches long," he was saying. "I'm going to impale you with this." Ramsay's eyes were on Hunter's cock. It didn't matter what he did with that thing in his hand as long as he finally fucked him with that cock of his. God, could he fuck. With all the men he'd ever had, Hunter was the best when it came to 166

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fucking. Hunter got on his knees, positioning himself in such a way so that Amanda could see what he was doing. Hunter lengthened the chains which held both Ramsay's legs and unlooped the nipple chain from around his cock. He pushed his knees up over his head, forcing him backwards so that his hips were in the air. "Watch," Hunter breathed, turning his head and forcing Ramsay to look at himself in the mirror. He almost had an orgasm when that slick vibrating instrument whirled into his ass. Hunter took the nipple chain in his teeth and, as the instrument went deeper and deeper, he yanked on it, sending exquisite torture through his tits. Hunter's hand began to play with Ramsay's cock, moving that ring around, fingering the tip. He was just about to lose his mind. "I'm widening it now, baby; it's going to fill your ass like nothing before it." He started to cry out, spitting that tie out of his mouth at the same time. His cock pumped. Hunter slid that toy in and out. He could see it dipping deep inside of him, then reappearing, see his tits being pulled by those clamps, see Hunter, naked, hard ... oh God ... Hunter's body was incredible. "Fuck me," he called out, "fuck me with that thing. Harder, faster ... Jesus, yes ... yes..." He was coming. Hunter whipped off the cock ring and Ramsay slammed his head against the wall, not even noticing the pain as he came, the orgasm so intense, ripping through his entire soul. He glanced up at him now, his eyes pleading. "Fuck me with your cock," he whispered. "Hunter, please." Hunter held his ankles up, clamping them against Ramsay's wrists. He tore the toy out of his ass and leaned 167

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into him, slamming his cock up inside of him. He began to pump and Ramsay moaned deeply. It didn't matter that his dick was limp now. The feeling of Ramsay inside of him was making him hard again. He watched his face in the mirror. God, had he ever seen anything more beautiful than that? Baby. Baby. Yes, pump it all into me. I love you, Hunter. God damn you, I love you. **** When Hunter came, he let out a cry like a wounded animal. He gasped as he pulled out of him, then quickly crawled across the floor, putting some distance between them. He had lost it completely inside of him. He hadn't intended that. Ramsay said his name now, and Hunter looked over at him. He was surreally beautiful, his fair hair all in disarray, his cheeks pink. Hunter crawled back over to him and released him from his wrist cuffs. Then he carefully undid one ankle, then the other. He hoped that no one would notice how badly his hands shook. He wanted to touch him. He wanted to hold him in his arms. Ramsay took off the nipple clamps. He glanced over at Amanda and smiled one of his innocent smiles. "Did you like that?" She was lying back, eyes closed, tongue playing around her lips. "Very nice, boys." "Are we finished?" Hunter said abruptly, standing up now. Amanda opened her eyes and looked at him. "Tired, Hunter?" 168

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"A little." "You guys outdid yourself tonight. Thanks," she smiled. "So sweet. Go to bed. We can play tomorrow night. Maybe you can do that to Hunter. Would you like to, Ramsay?" "Sure," he said. Hunter picked up his shirt and his pants and waved at Amanda. He needed to get out of that room all of a sudden. He needed to get away from Ramsay.

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Chapter Eleven Amanda was trying to make sense of what Scott was saying, but his words were all jumbled. "He was there, or he wasn't there?" "He was, then he wasn't," Scott said. "I think." Amanda rolled her eyes. "Scott!" He took a sip of coffee. They were sitting outside by the pool. It was after two in the afternoon, and Scott had just gotten up. "I need something stronger than this." She shook her head. "Did you speak to him?" "Look, I was dancing on stage and I looked into the crowd and there he was." "How did he know you were there?" "I don't know." "And he didn't speak to you?" "No. He didn't come backstage or ... that's why I think maybe I was imagining it." "You weren't imagining it," a voice said suddenly. Amanda and Scott both turned around in their seats at the same time, and there he was. Amanda noticed that Scott's face had suddenly drained of color. She reached over and patted his hand, then stood. "Hello, Ciel." "Amanda," he said, inclining his head. He was wearing those sunglasses again. "I'll, ah ... leave you to talk," she said, casting one last long look at Scott, who had his hand in front of his face. 170

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She paused when she reached Ciel, then reached up on tiptoe and pecked him on the cheek. He reached out and squeezed her forearm. She gave him a faint smile and continued on into the house. **** Scott looked at Ciel. He remained sitting in the chair. He couldn't have gotten up if he'd wanted to. A familiar weakness washed over him. Ciel stood there in a soft pair of black leather pants and a light blue tank top. Even with the sunglasses covering his face, his beauty was startling. He looked thinner than usual, but there wasn't one damn unattractive feature on him. Scott suddenly wished he could find something else to focus on. "Why didn't you come and talk to me last night?" "You seemed busy," he said. He didn't come closer. His voice sounded nonchalant, but Scott knew it was just the way he was, the way he handled things. "I brought your mail," he said, throwing a few envelopes onto the patio table beside the pool. "I know you don't approve, but I have to work, you know." He didn't reply. "You don't understand. You're university educated. I have no skills, I..." "I didn't come here to talk about your fucking lack of skills." That deep voice raised an octave, but remained calm, the French accent a bit more pronounced than usual.

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Those words cut through him like a knife. Scott stopped talking. He focused on the ground. "What did you come here for, then?" "I need to know where to go from here. My life is..." He raised his hands, then dropped them. "My life is on hold." Scott nodded. "I've just started to figure out how to live without you." "Is that what you want? To live without me?" Scott risked a glance at him. Ciel hadn't moved from that spot. He reached up and took off the glasses. He looked tired. There were dark rings under his eyes. "What else can I do?" Ciel nodded. "Well, I guess I have my answer, then." "I can't share you," Scott muttered under his breath while Ciel shook his head. "So you still believe I fucked someone else?" That beautiful mouth twisted. Scott stood up. "I don't want to talk about this now." "When would you like to talk about this?" Ciel demanded, his voice hardening. "Are you telling me this is really over? Can you stand there and look at me and tell me you don't love me anymore? Go on," he urged, "tell me. Say it and I'll walk away. I won't bother you anymore." Scott turned his back. "I didn't say I didn't love you. You're just not the kind of man I should love." "Really?" He laughed harshly. Scott turned around, only to be grabbed suddenly by his forearms. Ciel dragged him close, those black eyes searching 172

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his. "Tell me," Ciel urged, his chest heaving, "tell me, Scott. What kind of a man would you be able to love?" Scott tried to struggle free, but Ciel held tight, a storm brewing in those black eyes of his. "Let me go," Scott growled. "I'll fucking knock you on your ass." Ciel laughed, his face close to his. "Go ahead and try. If you're leaving me, baby, I don't intend to make it easy for you. You think you can come back here to Amanda and hide? You think its going to be that fucking easy? You want to walk out on me, leave me like this ... accuse me of shit I didn't do and then fucking walk away..." His voice broke, and he released him, turning his back. "I wish I'd never set eyes on you. I've tried, Scott, I've tried so fucking hard to make you believe how much I love you. I can't ... do it anymore." Scott drew a ragged breath. He wouldn't cry. "I guess I'm just too damn needy for you." Ciel turned around, his eyes blurred with tears. He smiled at him, almost tenderly. "I hate all those people who've hurt you. If I could undo everything that was done in the past, I would. I'd put it all on me, take it away ... but I can't." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Just because I have friends at the university, just because men look twice at me when we go out together, doesn't mean they could ever mean to me what you do. I love you so much, Scott." He met his eyes. "My heart is yours, but you'll never love yourself enough to take it." He shook his head, a stray tear escaping onto his cheek. "I'll always love you. There will never be anyone else for me, ever. I don't know why. It's just the way it is. Stay well," he said. 173

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Scott watched him turn around and head for the door. He swallowed the tears. He wanted to call out to him, tell him not to go, tell him he'd do anything, anything to make it right again, but he didn't know how. If he went back to him now, nothing would change. He'd still question his every move, wonder at every turn if he was cheating on him or going to cheat on him. He didn't know how he could ever really believe someone like Ciel could love him. After all, compared to Ciel, he was nothing. He had no skills, no education, nothing to give him except for a slightly experienced fuck, which a lot of other guys would line up to offer him. What in the hell could someone like Ciel truly want with him? He was gone. He was just gone, and he'd done nothing to contradict him, nothing to try to convince him they could make this work. What in hell could he say? Ciel was right. He knew deep down that Ciel didn't cheat on him. He didn't know how to love himself, and maybe he didn't know how to love Ciel either. How was he going to live without him? He walked into the house and down the hallway. He opened the front door and looked outside. The street was empty. He was empty. **** Amanda was surprised to hear from Jacques and just a little anxious to finish their telephone conversation. She had watched Ciel get onto his bike and leave about ten minutes ago, and she had wandered all over the house looking for Scott, the telephone pinned to her ear. "I'm very surprised," 174

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she was saying while she made her way to the terrace out back. "You usually don't check up on me, Jacques." "Well, ma belle, it's been almost a month, and I've heard nothing. Some of Ramsay's clients are asking for him." "You want him back." "No, I wouldn't break our agreement, ma petite. The problem is not with Ramsay so much, though I am losing more revenue than I expected. The problem is with Hunter." "Hunter." "We need to talk about that. As for the other matter, you need not worry. I took that risk when I let him go." "If I need not worry, then why did you mention it?" There was a pause. "Why don't we have a drink, and we can talk. There is a little matter, a delicate matter concerning Hunter that we should discuss." "Okay. When?" "Tonight, nine o'clock?" "Very good," Amanda said. "Bonjour, ma belle," he said, and hung up. When Amanda reached the terrace, she froze. She lifted a hand to her mouth. There was broken glass everywhere. The chairs had been mangled and thrown into the pool. What in hell had happened here? "Scott? Scott?" she called out. There was no answer. Hunter appeared suddenly, stopping dead when he saw the mess. "What's all this?" "Have you see Scott?" He shook his head. "Ciel was here." 175

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"Did they have a fight?" "I don't know, but ... we have to find Scott." She suddenly spotted the scattered envelopes on the ground. She bent over and picked them up. They were addressed to Scott. She clutched them in her hand. She had to talk to Ciel. "You stay here," she said to Hunter. "Call me on my cell phone if he comes home. I'm going to talk to Ciel, find out what happened." "Amanda, maybe you shouldn't..." he began. "You don't know Scott," she said. "He could do something ... something ... to himself. I..." Hunter placed a hand on her arm. "I'll stay here. I'll try and clean up some of this mess," he said. "Thanks," Amanda breathed, and left. Hunter was just beginning to pick up the broken furniture when Ramsay came outside. "What's all this?" he asked. "Ciel was here. I don't think it went well," Hunter replied. Ramsay walked over and pulled a broken chair out of the pool. "I'll get the broom," he said, "and pick up some of this glass. Where's Amanda?" "Gone to Ciel's, trying to find out what happened." "She should stay out of it. People break up all the time," he said with a shrug. Hunter turned around and stared at him. "Are you really that insensitive?" Ramsay looked surprised. "I told you these gay relationships don't last." "You're a real homophobe." 176

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"No, I'm not. It's not realistic. Maybe lesbians, but not men." "So men can't love, is that it?" "Not exclusively. We're not made that way." Ramsay shrugged again. "So what about when you find your sugar daddy?" "I have no intention of loving him." "But he'll have to love you if he wants to take you in and pamper you all his life, won't he?" Ramsay sighed. "Where's the broom?" "Inside the door," Hunter said, examining a chair. "Maybe this one can be fixed, but the other one is a lost cause." Ramsay began to sweep. "They went psycho out here." "I think it was Scott." "If he loves this guy, what's the problem?" "I don't know, fuck. I'm not Dr. Phil!" Ramsay took up the glass in the dustpan. "I'll take this inside." "Yeah, thanks," Hunter said. He was worried about Scott. He hoped he was okay. He knew what it felt like to suffer. Just looking at Ramsay sometimes was painful. He wondered if Scott had decided to go to the baths. He put down the broken chair, and picked up the mobile. **** Amanda was on the road, doing something she rarely did— she was driving. She hated the traffic; people were maniacs. She regretted not waiting for her driver. She double-checked the address on the envelopes and swore when her cell phone 177

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rang. She stopped at a red light, almost slamming into the BMW in front of her and snatched her cell phone out of her purse. "Yes?" she said. "Amanda, its Hunter." "Is Scott back?" "No. I was thinking that maybe I'd do a tour of the bars, the baths; maybe I can find him. I can tell Ramsay to stay here and wait in case he comes back." "Good idea. Okay. Do that. Both of you keep me posted," she said, and hung up. She had all she could do driving in this mess. She didn't need any more distractions. The apartment was on a quiet street in Hollywood. It was a sand-colored two-story walk-up covered in vines. She noticed that Ciel's bike was parked out in the driveway. She checked the address a third time, then walked up the staircase to the apartment on the second floor. She knocked. When no one came, she knocked again. Finally, the door opened and Ciel stood there. He seemed surprised. "Amanda," he said. "What are you...?" "Can I come in?" He stood aside and opened the door. She walked into a modest living room, nicely decorated. There was a photo of Ciel and Scott together sitting on top of an end table beside the sofa. You couldn't miss it. It was the centerpiece of the room. "Can I get you something?" She shook her head. She walked over and hugged him for a minute. "You know I love you." "Yes, I know," he said, stepping back from her. "Scott destroyed my back yard. Now he's gone." 178

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"Gone where?" "I don't know. Hunter is looking for him." "The black-haired guy from the Agency?" "Yes. He thinks he might have gone to the baths." "You can tell him to go to the one on Melrose. That's the one he usually uses when he's upset." Amanda met his eyes. "Don't you care?" "Jesus Christ," he said, obviously angry. "I wish to hell you people would stop assuming I don't care. All I do is fucking care." "What happened?" "You mean today?" His eyes widened some. "Yes. Did you come by to ask him to come home, or...?" "Don't you think that's what I want?" He groaned. "It's not going to happen." "He loves you, don't you know that?" "Yes, I know," he said, nodding. "And I love him. But do you think I can ever make him believe that? Amanda," he said before she had the chance to answer, "I have tried everything. He is constantly telling me I don't really love him. I'd rip my heart out of my chest if I thought it would do any good, but it wouldn't." "Did you sleep with someone else? He thinks that..." "No." Ciel ran a hand through his hair. "I never cheated on him, even when we stopped making love." "You stopped?" He nodded. "All we did was fight, Amanda. To Scott, I had fucked every guy who looked at me sideways." She smiled briefly. "You must have been busy." 179

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He laughed a little. "Apparently." He sighed. "He has no self-esteem, and it's exhausting." She nodded. "What if I was to get him into therapy, some sort of counseling to help him deal with that?" He met her eyes. "You'd do that, after he left you for me?" "Oh, Ciel," she said, "baby. Of course, initially I felt bad about that. I licked my wounds, but don't you think I want to see him happy?" She touched his face. "I know how much he loves you, so it didn't hurt as bad letting him go. I never blamed you." He smiled at her, then nodded. "Thanks. Do you really think he'd consider it?" "Would you go too? Would you go with him, stand by him?" Ciel grabbed her hand. "I'd do anything for Scott, anything, Amanda. If he's willing to try, I'll stand by him." She hugged him for a long time. "Should I call Hunter?" Ciel nodded. "Call him and tell him to go home. Let me find Scott." Back in the car, Amanda called Hunter and told him not to bother looking for Scott. "Did you find him?" he asked. "No, but Ciel will. Thanks. I'll be back later. I have to be somewhere in a little while. Take the night off, okay?" "Sure. See you later," he said, and rang off. **** Emotionally, Ciel felt drained. He parked his bike in the parking lot at the bathhouse on Melrose and braced himself for what he'd face. Scott got destructive when he was in pain. 180

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Booze and sex were the only things which could appease him at these times. He stood outside for a moment, wondering if he was wasting his time. But what in hell could he do? He loved him. He'd always love him. He was either going to give up and do what he'd considered doing before Amanda had showed up today, which was go back to France, or he was going to fight. When he walked into the small entrance, he found a sweaty guy in a stained white T-shirt standing behind the counter. Obviously he'd just been in the steam room or something. He peered at Ciel for a second, then smiled. "Hello there, gorgeous. What can I do you for today, honey?" Ciel smiled, pulling out his wallet. "I'm looking for someone, so here, I want to wander." "If he's smart, he'll let you find him." The man grinned, then took his money and winked. "Here's a lock for your locker, and a towel. You know your way around, or do you need me to ... ah..." "I'll manage," Ciel said, pulling the towel and lock out from under the barred window. The man pressed the buzzer and the door to the bathhouse opened. **** After a dinner at Chez Pierre's at her favorite table, Amanda got back into her little sports coupe and headed to Jacques's mansion. She was early but she didn't give a shit. Her curiosity was piqued. 181

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The valet took her keys when she got out and drove the car around to the parking area in the back. That stiff-looking butler answered the door and said that he'd announce her. Jacques came bounding down the stairs a few minutes later, kissed her on both cheeks, then led her into his handsome study. "You're early, my dear." "I'm sorry. I hope that's not a problem." She checked her watch. It was a little after eight. She hoped that everything was working out with Ciel and Scott. "You look preoccupied." "I am," she said. He poured two glasses of white wine and passed one to her. She accepted it with a brief nod of her head. "Anything I can do?" He lifted an eyebrow. She shook her head. "No. I came here to talk about Hunter and Ramsay." "Are you happy with their services?" "Yes, but I have the feeling I'm going to have to open my pocketbook a little more." She lifted an eyebrow and met his eyes. "Amanda," he said, leaning back in his seat, "what I'm about to tell you requires your discretion." "Of course." "It looks like I will have to send Hunter to one of my European houses." Amanda narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand." "You don't know this, but Hunter's father is Senator Frank Delany." 182

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Amanda's eyes widened. "The Senator Delany, the bastard who voted against the gay rights initiative last year?" "The very same." "I don't understand." "He found out that Hunter is working for the Agency, and he wants me to get him out of town before anyone finds out who he is." Amanda sat back in her chair. "Delany doesn't want to know anything of this boy. He helped him temporarily a while back. He figures he's done enough for him. He has a new family now, and they don't know about Hunter." "The hypocritical bastard!" "This hypocritical bastard can cause a lot of problems for me, and for people like you. I must abide by his wishes if I don't want to see the collapse of the Agency here in the U.S. Since Hunter will have to leave before the three-month period, we'll call it even for Ramsay." "What if Hunter doesn't want to go? What if he decides to stay with me?" "He can't do that." Jacques leaned forward. "I promised Delany that I would get Hunter out of the U.S by the end of next week."

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Chapter Twelve The scent of sex and sweat hit his nostrils as soon as Ciel walked into the locker room. There were two naked men standing there discussing something. He nodded at them and opened up the locker. He began to take off his clothes, aware of the fact that the conversation had abruptly ceased and both men were ogling him. Good thing he wasn't shy. He would have remained dressed, except that it was against the rules. He shoved his clothes into the locker and wrapped the towel around his waist. He looked up suddenly at the two men. One of them flashed him a smile. "Where you been all my life, baby?" Ciel scowled at him. "Well, it sure as hell hasn't been in this dump," he said, and walked out. The bathhouse was circular. When you stepped out of the locker room, you walked directly into a spa, a huge swimming pool-like apparatus which was steaming like a sauna. Coming out of that room were individual saunas. Through the windows, Ciel caught glimpses of two or three men in the little rooms, most of whom were adding steam to the already steamed windows. He didn't want to stare too long, but he was trying to see if Scott was in one of those saunas. A few times he thought he saw someone who looked like Scott, then the door would open and some guy would motion to him, and he'd shake his head. It wasn't him. Maybe Scott wasn't even here. Maybe he was in a gay bar, in one of those back rooms where everyone had sex with everyone else in the dark. 184

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Next were the rooms. They contained single beds with plastic sheets for easy cleanup. Piped-in music flooded the hallway, some heavy metal tune Ciel vaguely remembered. Men passed him, naked mostly, stopping to touch him, run their hands over his chest, murmur things in his ear. He was getting high on the sex which was all around him. Moaning came from the rooms, with the distinctive sounds of sucking. Through a door, he saw one guy getting fucked in the ass while another guy shoved his cock down his throat. He stood watching them for a minute. He was beyond horny; his cock was so hard it hurt. God, it hurt so good. He laughed a little. That was playing now. It hurt so good ... the singer said. Scott, where are you? It had been so long since he'd touched him, so long since he'd held him in his arms. It wasn't because he didn't want him. They had grown apart. The more Scott had accused him of sleeping around, the more resentful he'd become. Sometimes he'd lie in bed aching to touch him, but Scott would curl up in a little ball instead, perhaps intending to punish him. Ciel didn't even realize that he had been cornered until a deep voice said in his ear, "You have to be a dream." Ciel glanced at the man standing in front of him, the man who was backing him into a corner, ripping at his towel. "I'm ... looking for someone." "I was too. I think I just found him," he said, holding the towel Ciel had around his waist in his hand. "Ah." Ciel smiled. "No." A hand was on his cock. His eyes almost closed. He had to find Scott. With all the willpower he could muster, he grabbed 185

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his towel and pushed the guy off him. "I can't," he said. "I'm looking for someone." He continued down the hall, then he heard someone say, "You're not much good to me like this." He moved forward, looked around the corner into a room right at the end, and there was Scott. He was lying on the bed naked, two men leaning over him. One was rubbing Scott's cock, the other trailed his own dick over Scott's lips. "Suck it, baby, come on," he said. Ciel took two steps into the room, grabbing the guy who knelt between Scott's legs, pulling him back. The other guy looked up, surprised. "Hey, this is a private party. Unless..." He got a clearer look at Ciel. "...you want to join in. You're hot." Ciel gave the other guy another shove. "Get lost," he said. The first man put up his hands and walked out. The other one wasn't going to be as accommodating. "Who in fuck do you think you are?" Ciel looked down at Scott. He was drunk, right out of it. "He's God almighty," Scott slurred, laughing, his eyes halfclosed. "My Ciel, my angel from heaven. Did you know Ciel means heaven in French? He has come to rescue me." "I don't give a fuck what his frog name means. I was here first." Ciel sighed. Shit. He walked around the single bed and looked the guy in the eye. He was big, as tall as Ciel was, and beefy. "Look, I'm asking you one more time. Please leave. I'm taking this guy home. He's drunk." "You're not taking him anywhere," the guy said. 186

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Ciel looked down at Scott. He had passed out completely. He reached down to pull him up off the bed, and the big beef swung at him. **** Amanda knew she would have to talk to Hunter. He was not a piece of meat, and she wasn't going to allow some right-wing senator to hurt Hunter because he regarded him as his dirty little secret. Hunter was sleeping when she went into his room. She switched on the lamp and gave him a tender look when he sat up and rubbed his sleepy eyes. She brushed his hair back from his face, feeling a sudden rush of tenderness for him. "What's wrong, Amanda? Did Scott come home?" "No. Ciel will find him. Why didn't you tell me about your father?" His eyes widened. "Do you know my father?" She nodded. "Yes." "What has he done now?" "He wants you out of the country." There was no point in beating around the bush. He laughed harshly. "Out of the fucking country now?" "I'm sorry." Amanda shook her head. He shrugged. "I've given up on him, really." "But it still hurts." He nodded, and looked away. "He'll make trouble for Jacques if you don't go, but Jacques can't make you. I'll keep you here with me if you agree." 187

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Hunter's eyes opened. "You'd do that? He could make trouble for you, Amanda. My father is a powerful man." She lifted her chin. "You just let me worry about that." He nodded. "Thank you for the offer." He shook his head. "But you know, the idea of going to one of the European houses appeals to me." "Why?" She narrowed her eyes. "I have my reasons." From the look on his face, it was clear that he didn't intend to share those reasons with her. "What about going home to your mother?" He shook his head sadly. "I don't fit in there." He swallowed. "I'm never going home again." To be without home ... without family. She could hardly stand the thought of it. She stood up, reaching out to touch his shoulder for a second. "You go back to sleep now, love. This isn't over by a long shot." She'd never been one to let any man bully her, and she wasn't going to start now. **** Ciel sat at the kitchen counter, nursing his second cup of black coffee. He had popped a couple of strong aspirin a while ago but it hadn't done much for the pain. And as for the pain in his heart, well, there was nothing that would ease that. He stared out the window, the coffee getting cold in his cup. There was a light sprinkle of rain falling outside the window, but the sun was still shining. He'd always found that strange, the sun shining through rain. The phone rang a few times; he let the answering machine get it. He didn't want to talk to 188

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anyone. He was preparing for what he would say to Scott when he woke up. Last night he had half-carried Scott out of the baths, after trying to convince the owner not to call the cops. He'd had a hell of a good fight with that big guy; the only thing that had saved his ass was all the anger and frustration he'd been feeling lately. He pummelled it out on that big guy's face. In spite of the fact that his lip was cut and swollen, his left eye was turning purple, and his stomach was sore as hell, the other guy, hard to believe as it was, looked far worse. Ciel had asked for Scott's clothes, and had hastily put on Scott's pants and then his own before the taxi arrived. What a nightmare, and all the time the owner kept saying that he should have called the police and blah, blah, blah. Scott hadn't opened his eyes when the taxi driver had helped Ciel put him in the back seat. He'd only stirred a bit when the driver had helped him dump Scott on the bed. Ciel put his head in his hands. He had sat there beside him for a long time last night, watching him twist and turn in his sleep. He'd touched his hair, kissed his cheek, and finally placed his face on his chest and slept for awhile. When he awoke, it was early dawn and he was in pain. He cleaned the wounds on his face the best he could, and went to lie on the sofa, but he couldn't sleep for long there, either. His stomach hurt; his back ached. And he couldn't stop wondering where in hell he and Scott would end up. Was it really over? If it was, how would he go on without him? Amanda had offered to pay for therapy. It was expensive. Unless he suddenly became a best-selling author, they 189

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wouldn't be able to afford it. First, he wasn't even sure Scott would go for it. Scott had a hard time talking about his past, even with him. Secondly, how much did he want Amanda involved in their problems? Amanda was a good person in her own way. He knew she didn't want anything in return, but she was very attached to Scott, and Scott to her. Their codependence in the past could very easily re-establish itself. After all, who had Scott gone running to as soon as he left him? Amanda. Ciel got up and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. He turned when he heard a noise. Scott stood there, a blanket wrapped around him. He gazed at Ciel across the kitchen, his eyes looking blurry, bloodshot. "What am I doing here?" "You don't remember?" Scott shook his head. He came and sat down at the table. Ciel poured him some coffee and went to get milk out of the fridge. He poured a drop of milk in the cup, just like Scott took it, and then put the milk back. Ciel watched as Scott took a swallow of the coffee. "Ah," he said, "I've forgotten how good your coffee is." Ciel nodded, then came and sat opposite him at the table. Scott's eyes widened suddenly. "Jesus Christ," he gasped, making a move to stand up and touch his face. "What in the hell ... who hurt you?" "It's not important." Ciel waved a hand at him to sit down. Scott sat back down slowly. His eyes moved over his face. "Tell me ... it wasn't me, was it? Because if I did that, I'll..."

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"It wasn't you," Ciel said, shaking his head. "It was some big idiot at the Melrose baths. Don't you remember going there?" Scott nodded. "I was pretty drunk before I got there, and I spent some time at the bar. After that, I..." Ciel put up a hand. "I took you out of there. You were out of it." "Thanks, I guess." Ciel nodded, while Scott took another sip of the coffee. "I'll drink this and then..." "Scott," Ciel said, reaching across and taking his hand. He didn't pull it away. "Ciel, don't." He squeezed his hand, then took it back, hiding it under the table. "I love you. I don't want to live without you, but I can't go on like this." He shook his head. "Amanda has offered to pay for ... well, for us to see someone about..." "I'm not nuts," Scott snapped, getting up, practically taking the table with him. "I don't need a fucking shrink." "I said 'us,' didn't you hear me? I'm willing to go too. Counseling so that we can learn to..." "To talk about my past, touchy feely holding hand bullshit? No way," he said, "no fucking way!" Ciel sighed as he watched him turn on his heel and head back to the bedroom, dragging the blanket after him. Ciel took a deep breath and stood up. He coughed, the pain in his gut making him feel a little dizzy. He pushed it away and followed Scott to the bedroom. "Round Two," he muttered. **** 191

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Amanda told her driver to wait as he pulled up outside the home of Senator Frank Delany. She walked up the sweeping driveway and paused before the barred iron gates. She pressed the intercom and waited. "Yes?" said a voice. "Amanda Martindale to see Senator Delany." Whenever she wanted access to the inner circles here in California, she used her husband's name. It carried weight. In New York, where her father had been a very important man, she would have used Nash. It was all a macabre game of namedropping. "Excuse me, Ms. Martindale, is the Senator expecting you?" "No, actually he isn't. Just tell him I'd like to talk to him about a matter concerning a mutual business associate, a Mr. Hunter Reese. And if Mr. Delany is not available to talk to me about it, I'd be happy to discuss it with Mrs. Delany." "Just a moment," the voice replied. Amanda waited. A few minutes later, she heard a buzzing sound. The gates opened, and she heard the voice announce, "Mr. Delany will see you right away, Ms. Martindale. Please come to the side entrance." Amanda smiled and walked through the gate. The house was pale stucco with climbing ivy for adornment. There was a huge round sculptured garden where the lawn would ordinarily have been, and people playing tennis out back. She could see just the edge of the tennis court from where she stood. As she walked around to the side entrance, she 192

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breathed in the strong scent of roses. They were everywhere, wild ones, yellow, pink, and red. Quite lovely. A dark-haired man dressed in a short-sleeved white polo shirt and matching shorts met her at the door. He had a tennis racket in his hand. He was in his early forties and handsome. In fact, she could see Hunter in those features. "Senator Delany," she said, holding out her hand. He didn't take it. "Come in," he said hastily, looking around him. "I really don't appreciate being led through the servant's entrance," she said, following him as he marched through the kitchen and into a small office down the hallway. When she walked in, he shut the door behind them. "Nice place you got here." "Who are you, and what do you want?" he asked, meeting her eyes. He spoke through clenched teeth. "I'm Amanda Martindale. My late husband is probably part of the reason you live in this house." "Your late ... you are the Mrs. Martindale?" "I guess you could say that," she replied, raising her head. "Now I recognize you. Were you at the fundraiser for..." "Yes, yes. Probably," she said. "I attend many of those boring things. But I didn't come here to talk about that." She walked over to the window. She saw a woman and two children playing on the tennis court. "Nice little family you got there." "What do you want, Mrs. Martindale?" She turned around. "Call me Amanda. No need for formalities, Frank, especially since I know so much about 193

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you." She took her time walking around the room, looking at this and that. "A lot of pictures with important people. Isn't that one of you and the President?" "Yes," he said tightly. "None of you and Hunter, I see." "If he's caused any problems for you, Mrs ... Amanda, I'll pay for it." He walked over to his desk and pulled out a drawer. He took out his checkbook. "How much?" "If only it were that easy, Frank." She shook her head. "Put it away." He looked up at her, squinting. "You apparently are uneasy about Hunter being here in L.A. Are you worried that your pretty young wife is going to find out? What about your nice little white boys? Are they never to learn they have a brother?" "What do you want?" "You keep asking me that, Frank." She moved her face closer. "You really disgust me." "You don't understand." He ran his hand through his hair. "I have things to..." "Oh, but I do, Frank. I understand more than you think. You don't have to worry about Hunter. He won't need anything from you. I'll take care of that. It's me you have to worry about, Frank darling. The Mrs. Martindale. You threatened a friend of mine, and you think you can force Hunter to go away, but he's only going to go away if he wants, not if you want. If he doesn't feel like going to Europe, he's going to stay with me. And if Hunter agrees, I'm going to 194

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make sure he takes his place in society, a place which is rightfully his, a place you deny him." "I won't allow it. I won't..." He shook his finger in the air. Amanda laughed in his face. "Now, if you want to make trouble for me, go ahead and try, Senator, but I promise you"—she brought her face close to his again and smiled ... "I'll bury you. And that happy ignorant little family of yours out there, and your cushy overpaid senator position, well, you can kiss them goodbye. It's money that counts in life, money is power, and when it comes down to it, you are no match for me. Ask around. I have interests in anything worth having interests in, and I can make your life extremely difficult." Delany stood there, stock still. Amanda gave him a brilliant smile. "Well, I guess I'll leave you now, Senator. I hope to see you at the next fund raiser. Give my regards to your wife," she said, heading to the door. He didn't see her out. Amanda walked down the corridor in the opposite direction to which she'd entered, and walked right out the front door. **** "Where the hell are my clothes?" Scott bellowed. Ciel leaned against the doorjamb, trying to get a breath. It was painful to breathe. He wondered if maybe he had a busted rib. "In that bag on the chair," he said. Tossing off the blanket, Scott tore the clothes out of the bag.

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Ciel let his gaze wander over him as he stood there naked, shaking out his pants. "You're so beautiful," he said softly. "Do you know how much I want to..." He stopped. Scott glanced over at him. "You didn't touch me for weeks while I was here. Why now?" "I wanted to." "You wanted to punish me." "Not you; me." "You?" Scott scoffed, putting his foot into one leg of his jeans. "What in hell gives you the right to imply that you love me more than I do you? Who in the fuck do you think you are?" Scott paused. "It's true." "According to who? You?" "Yes." He hastily put on the other leg and drew the pants up over his hips and fastened them. "It's a lie," Ciel said. "I love you more. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. It's not the case with you." "What do you mean?" Scott demanded. "I'd go to see someone, I'd go to a counselor ... a..." "Maybe it's easy for you to go blah, blah, blah about your life. It's not like me." He bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor. "You don't have a monopoly on childhood pain, you know," Ciel growled. "Do you think it was easy when my father took me to France as a kid? A strange fucking country. I didn't speak the language. And my father won't speak to me anymore because I want to be a writer instead of doing what 196

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he wants me to do. You think that's been easy, turning my back on my dad so that I can lead my own life?" Scott put on his shirt. "No, it's not easy, but it doesn't compare." Ciel took a step towards him. "If you'd let me in," he said softly, "I'd help you." He touched his shoulder. Scott met his eyes. He reached over and touched his cheek. "My poor darling," he said. "Your beautiful face and..." He shook his head and took his hand away. "I'm highmaintenance. Didn't you tell me that once? Just look at your face, and you'll know that I'm no good for..." Ciel reached for him. He shut off his mind, and did what he'd been aching to do since he'd walked into this room. Ignoring the stabbing pain in his gut, he pushed Scott backwards with all his strength. Taken off guard, Scott stumbled and his body slammed back against the wall. "Hey," he began but Ciel didn't give him time to speak. "Shut up," Ciel said, his lips pressing against Scott's throat. It hurt like hell, his mouth, but the pain was bittersweet. To touch him ... that was all he wanted right now. He placed his hands on his chest, holding him there against that wall, then moving a hand down to his jeans when Scott ceased to struggle. Ciel could hear his own heartbeat. Scott's chest was heaving with uncontrolled passion, and when Ciel undid Scott's jeans and took out his cock, Scott moaned and rolled his head against the wall. "Fuck," he hissed, grabbing Ciel's wrist and, pulling down on it, urging him to his knees. 197

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Scott's hands were in his hair as Ciel let his tongue move over the length of his cock, already hard as rock. When Ciel took it in his mouth, the tears stung his eyes. Pain. Physical pain and emotional pain merging to cause the tears to slide down his face. He took his cock deeper still; all the emptiness Scott's leaving him had, for this moment, been filled. He pulled the open pants down with one hand, then placed both hands on Scott's delightful ass, an ass he wanted suddenly to possess, even though he doubted he had the capacity right now. He continued to suck his cock, feeling the vibrations in Scott's body, the movements of his hands in his hair, the air escaping from his mouth ... the curses, then the thundering of release. He took as much of it as he could, Scott's cum actually soothing the open wound on his lip. Ciel released him, looking up at his face from where he still knelt. "Ciel," Scott said, reaching down and pulling him to his feet. "Your mouth is bleeding. God." He kissed it gently, tasting his blood. Ciel reeled a little. Scott reached out and steadied him. "Are you all right?" The room seemed to spin. "You better get me to a ... hospital, Scott. Scott..." he said, reaching out, and then everything went black.

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Epilogue "I'm so glad you called me," Amanda told Scott in the waiting room of the hospital. Scott put his head in his hands. "God, I thought ... I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, Amanda. I..." "The doctors will fix him up. He'll be all right." Hunter came back into the waiting room now with two paper cups filled with coffee. He handed one to Scott and gave Amanda the other one. "Any more news?" "No," Amanda said. "And thanks for the coffee. We have to wait. Where's Ramsay?" "He went out for some air. He's got a thing about hospitals. He wouldn't tell me what." The doctor suddenly walked into the room. Scott stood up, Amanda behind him. He nodded at them. "He's got three broken ribs. We thought one of the ribs had punctured the lung, but fortunately not. Came close. He took one hell of a blow to the chest. Did you report this to the police?" Scott shook his head. "Well, I'd consider it. Anyway, he's in a lot of pain. He'll be coughing quite a bit over the next few weeks, but that's good. It will ward off pneumonia. He needs to rest, take it easy. I've prescribed some painkillers, but nothing too heavy. There's not much more we can do. He's young. He'll heal." "Thank you, Doctor." He nodded. "You can take him home in a half hour." 199

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Amanda squeezed Scott's hand. "He's going to need you to take care of him." Scott nodded. "Amanda," he said. "Ciel asked me about going to counseling with him." "Yes?" "I'm going to find Ramsay," Hunter said. Amanda nodded at him. "Meet you outside." When he'd left, Scott continued, "I want to try. It's going to be the hardest thing I've ever done, but damn it, he's worth it, Amanda. Ciel is worth it." Amanda hugged him and smiled. "I'm here for both of you, you know that." Scott nodded. "Yes. I know that." They walked out to the front desk. When Ciel appeared, Scott's face lit up. He rushed over to him and took his arm. "Let's go home, baby," he said. "We've got a lot to talk about." **** Hunter finally found Ramsay sitting on a bench around the back of the hospital. He seemed to be watching a few ducks swimming around in a little pond. Hunter went to sit beside him. "Hey," he said. "Hey, how's Ciel?" "Okay. We're ready to go. Coming?" He nodded, and stood up. "So," Hunter asked as they walked around to the parking lot where Amanda's car was waiting, "whatcha got against hospitals, man?" 200

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Ramsay glanced up at the tall white building. "A friend of mine died in this place once." "I'm sorry." "It's okay. I just don't like them, that's all. Hunter?" He suddenly placed a hand on his arm. "What?" "Are you leaving? Are you going to one of Larose's houses in Europe?" "I don't know yet. Why?" Hunter met his eyes. Was it possible that he gave a shit? Dare he hope? Ramsay held his eyes for a second, then looked away. "No reason." He shrugged. "Just wondered." "I'll have to let you know," Hunter said, and he walked out ahead of him, his heart in his throat. **** An hour later, Amanda's driver had dropped off Scott and Ciel. Ciel seemed to be in good spirits, although he looked rather pale. Scott laid his head on his shoulder at one point and it had brought tears to Amanda's eyes. They had to be all right. Now that Scott had agreed to go to counseling, maybe they stood a chance. They loved each other so much. "I'll call you," Scott had told her, and Ciel had reached out his hand and took hers. "Thanks," he said. "It's the least I can do," Amanda replied. After they had disappeared inside their apartment, Amanda took one look at Ramsay and Hunter, and asked them if they were hungry. "Famished," Ramsay said, grinning. "I could eat," Hunter said. 201

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"Pizza," Amanda declared, and they stopped at a pizza joint a few miles away from the house and pigged out. As soon as they got home, Ramsay said he was tired and headed off to his room. Amanda took Hunter's arm and steered him into the living room. "Ramsay seemed sad. He was quiet at the pizza place." Hunter shrugged. "The hospital got to him, I suppose." "Hunter, let's talk for a while, okay? I have a proposition for you." She sat on the sofa and patted the seat beside her. Hunter gave her a curious look, and sat down. **** Ramsay lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. Was Hunter really going to go to Europe? It would probably mean that he'd never see him again. The thought of never seeing Hunter again had been nagging at him all evening. Maybe it was watching Scott and Ciel together. When he saw the state Scott was in when they had arrived at the hospital, he couldn't stay there. He had to get out, get some air. It wasn't only because his friend Sammy had died there in that hospital after being beaten up by a john. However, it did remind him of one thing—no one had cared about a drug-addicted prostitute, and no one cared about him either. Unless you had money and power in this world, you'd live an unremarkable life. He'd read that somewhere, and he decided to make it his own credo. One day he'd have money. One day some rich and powerful man would fall in love with him and take him out in society. He'd take him places and buy him clothes. He'd eat lobster and drink champagne for breakfast. He didn't care 202

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what Scott said. Scott was too wrapped up in Ciel to know anything about it. He had to stick to his goals. He had to find that rich man who would allow him to live the way he wanted to ... who would make him count in this world. That guy was out there, waiting. He could be just a client or two away. He couldn't be distracted, and if Hunter was leaving, well ... let him go. Ramsay, he whispered to himself in the dark, let him go ... let go of him ... let go of your heart... **** "What do you want to talk about?" Hunter asked. "I want you stay here with me, even after Ramsay leaves," Amanda stated. "I want to pamper you a little. Will you let me?" He laughed. "No one's ever wanted to pamper me before. Amanda, I haven't decided if I will go to Europe yet. I..." "If you don't go to Europe, will you stay with me?" "What about my father? He wants me to..." "He won't be a problem. Trust me." She met his eyes. "Amanda, what did you do?" "I didn't do anything really. I just let him know that I could make a hell of a lot more trouble for him than he could make for me. Men like that always underestimate women, especially women with money." "He could tell people about, you know ... the arrangement you have here with different men, and..." She laughed. "Oh, darling, really." She met his eyes. "Who would believe that a mere woman has that ferocious an 203

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appetite! Everyone knows we lassies just lie there." She batted her eyelashes at him. Hunter shook his head, then grinned. "You're something else, Amanda. I don't think I've ever met a woman quite like you before." "You bet your sweet ass you haven't, baby. Your father doesn't know who he's dealing with." Hunter laughed. Amanda sobered. "Stay with me," she urged. "Let's show that white ass father of yours he doesn't own the world. I want to take you out in that world, Hunter. You'll see the hypocrisy and the bullshit, but you'll be there ... and it just might make that old man of yours sweat a bit. I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." "I think I might like that too," Hunter said. "What about Ramsay?" "He'll stay until the three months are up, and then he'll decide. He's free to leave or stay. My feeling is that he won't stay." Hunter nodded. "Will there be another guy?" "Well, we'll make sure that there are a variety of boys to whet your appetite and to satisfy mine. What do you say?" She waited while he sat back against the sofa and closed his eyes. "Hunter? You're not going to let that old man of yours run you out of town, are you?" She made a motion with her hand like a gunfighter who was firing his gun. Hunter's eyes snapped open, and he sat up straight. "No, Amanda," he said. "I'm not." The End 204

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Who is Amanda? This series began with the book Amusing Amanda. Amanda is a young forties widow who has money to burn. She endured a boring marriage to a rich man and had lived the life of the rich, which she viewed as pretentious. Once widowed, she decided to do away with the constraints associated with class and gender. Amanda is not afraid to demand what she wants sexually. She achieves sexual gratification by watching beautiful men having sex. There is only one problem—Amanda doesn't always have as much control over the situation as she thinks she does. In book one, we meet Scott. Scott is half AfricanAmerican. He survived a series of foster homes as a child, and eventually ended up at the Agency, which is an escort service catering to the rich. It supplies beautiful men to those who are able to rent their services. Scott is Amanda's live-in companion. He has been with her a few years already when the story begins. Tired of the parade of muscle boys they find on the beach, Amanda goes looking for the most beautiful man in the world. She finds him in France. His name is Ciel. Born in America, Ciel was taken to France as a teenager to live with his French father. He worked in a fancy hotel in Paris, but hated it. He is not very good at taking orders. He wants to graduate from a university and become a writer, which is something his wealthy father doesn't approve of, so he refuses to help support Ciel. In exchange for a chance to 206

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earn his degree in the U.S., all expenses paid, he agrees to live with Amanda for a specified period of time and amuse her, with Scott. What happens when Ciel meets Scott ... is explosive. The series continues with Amusing Amanda: Chase and Cassidy. In book two, Amanda requests two young men from the Agency. Chase and Cassidy come to live with her. They are very different. Chase is older, more mature, and trying to finish a counseling degree. He wants out of the "profession." Cassidy is younger and cocky. He is looking for someone to support him, and is enthusiastic about living in Amanda's grand house. Chase and Cassidy clash from day one! The third book is Suffering Jordon. After the tragedy in book two, Chase has given up his dreams and decides to remain with Amanda. When Amanda's father dies, her half-brother Jordon comes to stay with her temporarily. Jordon was once a race car driver. Years before, he had a terrible accident in mysterious circumstances. Now he is a race car designer. Amanda and Jordon were never close, Jordon doesn't approve of his sister's "lifestyle," and he certainly doesn't approve of Chase. How will Chase "suffer Jordon"? Although the Amusing Amanda series is very hot, it offers something more than the typical male/male erotica. Amusing Amanda introduces readers to Scott, Ciel, Chase, Cassidy, 207

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and Jordon. You are exposed to their passions and dreams, disappointments and pain ... but most of all, to their hearts. In The Agency, the reader gets a closer look at the Agency itself. You will meet two intriguing new characters, Ramsay and Hunter. The Agency also brings back the other characters readers have come to love throughout the series. Read it, and see what happens when they all come together. Amusing Amanda Amusing Amanda: Chase and Cassidy Amusing Amanda: Suffering Jordon Amusing Amanda: The Agency Are all available at Liquid Silver Books. The End About the Author: D.J. Manly is first and foremost a writer, but is also a college professor, a small business operator, and a sociologist who works as a consultant on research projects. D.J. is a proud Canadian who lives in French Canada, and is fluent in both English and French. Human rights are a great concern, and D.J. longs for a peaceful world free of sexism, racism, and homophobia. D.J. writes for the pure love of writing, and always with the reader in mind. If D.J. doesn't enjoy reading it, it won't be written. Great characters, great sex, and a great love are the elements you'll find in D.J's work. There is nothing quite as exciting as beautiful men falling in love. Come taste D.J's work, but be careful—you may become as addicted to reading it as D.J. is to writing it. One 208

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reviewer wrote that reading D.J. can give you "third degree burns in an air conditioned room." That says it all. E-mail D.J. any time with questions or comments. Visit D.J. online at www.djmanly.com

If you are connected to the Internet, take a moment to rate this eBook by going back to your bookshelf at www.fictionwise.com.

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