Six – Garnet
Watching Sterling make his way to me, one stiff step at a time, his pupils blown with lust and his cock tenting his stylish pants, just tripled down on how conflicted he was. When he was near the bed, I sat up, sliding to the edge of the mattress.
“It’ll be okay,” I said softly, reaching for his hips. He paused, then stopped, his eyes never leaving mine. “Better than okay. It’ll be great. I’ll make sure it is.”
With that vow resting on my heart, I pulled him forward just one more step. His arms hung by his sides, his fingers twitching. Closing my eyes I leaned forward, burying my face into his belly, my hands skimming around behind him to cup his ass. I breathed him in. His cologne permeated his shirt. It was a woody scent with a faint hint of lavender.
“Let’s get this shirt off,” I murmured as I nuzzled my nose into the soft material.
He didn’t speak, just began pushing the pearly buttons free before focusing on his cuffs. I shoved the shirt open and rubbed my cheek against the thick, coarse hair. He moaned deep down in his chest. I licked a path up and down his abs, letting my tongue drift into the hills and valleys, dipping into his navel then going lower still, using my nose to nudge at the fat, long length of his meat starting at his zipper.
“Why are you taking so long?” He shrugged his shirt off, his gaze an inferno.
“Are you in a hurry?”
“I…no, but this is like foreplay with a woman.”
“You say that as if building the passion is a bad thing,” I replied, lowering my lips to the bulge where I peppered his prick with soft kisses. “Just relax and enjoy what I’m going to do for you.”
He thrummed with pent-up tension. I played him out as long as I dared before freeing his cock. His eyes were drowsy and heavy with lust as I pulled him free of his pants, shoving the trousers and fashionable briefs to his ankles. He stepped out of them, walked to the bed this time, and slid his fingers into my hair.
“Now, please,” he whispered as if the walls had ears. I slipped off the mattress to my knees, inhaled the hot smell of man, and took him in hand. He hissed and shuddered, the strong fingers in my hair fisting. I hid the wince and pressed his cock to his belly, swiping up that beautiful fat vein, rolled around the engorged head, and poked at the slit with the tip of my tongue. His hips jerked. “Please now. I’m…it’s close.”
I pressed my tongue to the underside of his cockhead then gently cupped his balls. He grunted and thrust, I opened for him, wrapping my mouth around him. With one hand on his ass still, I pulled him in closer, taking more of his cock. His precum coated my tongue, a thick, slightly bitter taste that made my cock swell. He broke apart then, as if a dam had burst, his hips bucking madly as he shot down my throat. I hummed around his dick, squeezing his nuts firmly, swallowing each hot pulse. He thrust deep, then pulled out. A wet pop filled the room.
His eyes slowly opened, landing on me kneeling before him, licking at the cum at the corners of my mouth. He was, in that moment, the Sterling that I suspected was the true Sterling. His jaw and eyes free from tension, he gazed down at me as the corners of his mouth curled upward. I stood, stopping to rub each of his dark nipples before I straightened.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” I asked, pressing myself to him, ramming my stiff dick into his hipbone. He nodded, his fingers feathering up and down over my ass cheeks. “Did you like it?” I peppered his jaw with tiny kisses, his body still lax from the orgasm he’d just had.
“Not especially.” His fingers gripped my buttocks firmly.
“Do you like the taste of other’s men’s spunk?” Christ, this guy was getting me hot. I wasn’t sure if it was the standoffish vibe, or the fact that he was warming to me, little bit by little bit.
I playfully bit down on his earlobe. “Like pulling teeth,” I teased, sucking on his ear as I rode his hip hard. He chuckled. It was a really lovely sound.
He angled his stance a bit, giving me more room to grind into him. Fondling my ass, I nipped along his throat, the rasp of his whiskers on my lips adding accelerant to an already chaotic fire. Humping him like a horny dog, I gasped beside his ear when the first tremors of my release hit me. I shot all over his side and hip, pearly ropes of cum that got worked into our skin. He said little, just made a noise that could have been appreciation, or gas, and then lowered his head to taste my shoulder. Holding me close, hands on my ass, plump lips on my collarbone, I began to melt into him. And that was when the pliable, smiling Sterling was driven out like a leper.
He moved away, his gaze losing that brief flash of tenderness, and his shoulders stiffened. “That was nice. I should go.”
“Are you sure? It’s not even been a full hour.” I dropped to the bed, my balls still tingling, and watched him gather his clothes, then duck into the bathroom. Feelings that I shouldn’t be experiencing cropped up, but, as a professional, I shuttled them aside. While he splashed around in the bathroom, I dug out a package of antibacterial wipes I carry for just such a purpose and gave myself a hasty clean-up. Then, picking up the subtle vibe that our business was concluded, I gathered up my wares after pulling my clothes back on. I was zipping my cool tartan duffel when Sterling exited the bathroom, tiny droplets of water clinging to his closely cropped hair. One sparkling drop raced down his temple and along his hard jaw.
“If you come up with a bill for the off the clock work, I’ll pay you. I have cash.” He was fastening a gold cuff link as he spoke. When I didn’t reply, his gaze touched on me, then lingered. As cold as he was now, I still found him incredibly attractive. What that said about me, I didn’t want to think about.
“Sure, uhm, let me do the calculations while I piss,” I said, waving at the bathroom door. He inclined his head. I walked past him, making sure there was no contact, and slipped into the small bath, closing the door behind me.
Fishing out my dick, I stood in front of the toilet, lost in thought as I urinated. Sterling was throwing me off my game a bit.
Okay, he was knocking me to my ass. I’d dealt with closeted men before, lots of them. None of them could switch off all emotion like Sterling did. Hell, most of the guys who were hiding their sexuality were thrilled to cast off the shackles of their enforced heteronormative role when they were with me. This guy was locked down tighter than a cat’s ass, to quote Diamond. What had taken place in his past that had made him so sexually repressed? I had a few ideas, most of which went back to childhood lessons and/or a strict religious upbringing. Lots of guys with religious parents and families were buttoned down. Sterling was way beyond buttoned down. He was locked in a fucking dungeon in rusty chains. Could I find a key to fit those padlocks?
Snapping out of my thoughts, I shook off, flushed, then washed and dried my belly and hands. I ran my wet fingers through my hair, hoping to get it spiked up just a bit. When I was happy with my do, I pasted on a smile, and opened the door.
“So, I figure since it was less than an hour, I’ll give you the basic rate minus ten percent because…” The room was empty. The fake grin fell from my face. “Seriously?”
Anger flared up. Which was stupid because he was a client, not a boyfriend. He owed me nothing. Well, actually, he did. I stalked around the bed, my eye catching the note beside the phone on the nightstand. I gave the room another look, as if he might be hiding behind the curtains or something.
I picked up the neatly folded paper, opened it, and gaped at the hundred dollar bills fluttering to the carpet. Bending over, I picked up five crisp new Benjamins. Then I closed my mouth, shoved the cash into my wallet, and read the note. His penmanship was bold, slanted, but neat as a pin.
Garnet ~ Thank you for an enjoyable time. I doubt we’ll see each other again. This should cover services owed, the cost of the room, and a ride back to Colchester. Best wishes – S
I wadded up the note, threw it into my duffel, grabbed my coat, and made my way to the small lounge to wait for my ride. It was your typical hotel bar, dark and depressing, filled salesmen or weary travelers. A few men looked my way, the glitter of attraction in their eyes. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with some married dude looking to play with his bi/gay side. Sterling had sapped me.
“Raspberry gin and tonic with a lime,” I told the skinny woman behind the highly lacquered bar. I pushed my ID across the bar before she could ask. I knew I looked around sixteen, even though I was twenty-four. If I had a dollar for every bidder/client who told me I looked like Cameron Monaghan from Shameless, I’d be able buy the Maple Leafs. Not that I wasn’t flattered, because Cameron was crazy hot and I loved his character on the show, but I didn’t see the similarity, aside from the red hair. But whatever. It served me well to look so young, on occasion. Being carded before being allowed into an R-rated movie or get a damn drink sucked, but with the good comes the bad. My father used to say that before he got into his nightly two-four. The man could empty a case of twenty-four cans of beer in under two hours flat. It was impressive. Until he got ugly. Then it was just…bad.
Nope, not going there tonight, Tucker.
She nodded, handed me back my fake driver’s license, and went off to make my cocktail. Guess I had to give Kennedy thanks for the prime Illinois ID he’d set up for me when he’d brought me into Gems. Now, I just needed to get a fake social security number somehow. I’d been putting Shin and Butch off for weeks about payroll. They’d been accommodating and paid me cash, but soon they were going to get adamant and I’d be fucked. I’d come into the US illegally. Now that Gems wasn’t under the protection of certain types of local government, if Butch wanted to be a dick, which he seemed to want to be, he could call INS and ship me back to Canada. There would be no Ryan Reynolds to save my ass either. Pity. Ryan was hot as fuck.
My drink appeared in front of me. I handed the bartender a hundred. She gave me a sour look but went to the register to break the bill. Taking a sip, I sighed as the gin warmed my throat and belly. There was a TV over the bar. Sports channel of some sort. Basketball was on now, the Bulls, by the looks. I shifted in my seat. My change arrived. I peeled off a five for the barkeep. She inclined her head and went back to her friend at the end of the bar. I checked my ride. He was three minutes away. I guzzled my drink, shoved the pile of smaller bills into my wallet, grabbed my tote, and jogged out to meet the green Impala that had pulled up.
The driver was one of those talkative ones, which was okay. It kept my mind on light chit-chat instead of Sterling Vesco. I’d need to let him drift off into that hazy place where old friends and lovers went when you moved past them. He wasn’t even a friend, more like a business acquaintance that I blew once. Why he was clinging to my thoughts like warm cider, I had no clue. I tipped the driver well when we arrived outside Gems. The light snow had stopped. Wisps of airy flakes blew around the Impala when it took off.
Unlocking the back door, I walked into Gems. The silence was eerie. When Kennedy owned the place, it was never dark and silent. Back then, at one in the morning, we’d all have been with bidders, the chandeliers would be lit, security stalking the corridors, the hum of male voices always on the air. Now, the place was empty. All my fellow Gems were out working, just as I’d been. I walked past Shin’s office, tote on my shoulder, and meandered down the hall to where our personal suites had been. The place had been gutted. I kind of felt the same way, for some ridiculous reason.