After a late-night rendezvous is interrupted by the partner of the man who hired him, stripper and high-end escort Alex Kidman can’t get James Fitzgerald out of his head. So when James comes to watch him dance a few weeks later, Alex knows it’s time to make his move–but James isn’t comfortable with him if he isn’t paying for his time.
This story also appeared in the Dreamspinner Press anthology Sindustry II.
Bonus Story: Favorite Dish
With his lover James away on business for three weeks, Alex does his best to distract himself by keeping busy with his work as a chef, but not even the most elaborate meals can keep him occupied when all he wants to do is cook for two. Fortunately James has the same problem, and can’t resist coming home early to satisfy his hunger for Alex.
This short story also appeared in the Torquere Press anthology Pour Some Sugar On It.
Excerpt: Wanting More
He said his name was Mike. He had the nervous, giddy energy of a man who was lying, a man who knew he was doing something wrong but didn’t care. “Mike” was in his mid-thirties, round-faced and handsome. He watched me on the pole and requested a private dance. I led him to a curtained room and sat him down in a chair, and then I moved for him. I guess calling it a dance might be a little incorrect. There was writhing, there was grinding, there was the discreet placement of hands to encourage him. After all, that was what I was supposed to do. I knew he’d take me home from the moment his eyes locked onto me in the front room. The lap dance just sealed the deal.
Mike did take me home. He had a nice car, a two-seater that indicated to me he wasn’t a traditional family man. He lived in a gorgeous house in one of the suburbs of Denver, not too far from Capitol Hill and the club I worked at. Three stories high, with tall glass windows and ivy covering the front, it looked like something out of an old British novel. I let him escort me inside, damp hands clutching mine as the door closed behind us. We began to kiss, him eagerly and me mirroring his reactions. Hands pawed me, climbed inside my tight leather pants—that took some real effort on his part—and before I knew it we were naked together. We hadn’t even made it past the living room.
Mike sprawled back into a spacious white leather recliner and I straddled his lap, rubbing our groins together as he continued to squeeze me to him, taut with need and panting desire. He wanted me now; I felt it in his body and his short, inarticulate murmurs. He tried to press up into me at one point, but I stopped him.
“Condom,” I murmured against his lips. “I have one here. Wait a moment….” Leaning back out of his embrace, I reached over toward my discarded jacket and the little foil packet in its pocket. As my fingers closed around it, I felt Mike’s body stiffen into rigidity. The recliner snapped back into an upright position, tossing me off of him and onto the floor, and cracking my head against the edge of the coffee table at the same time. I lay there for a moment, dazed, as the voices started to fly.
“James….” Mike’s voice was quavering and high. “I thought you were still in Vancouver, the conference, it… why not?”
“Shut down early. I tried to call, but clearly you were otherwise occupied.” The new man’s voice was chilling. “Get your slut up and dressed.”
“My… right, yes….” Suddenly clothes were shoved into my hands and I was pulled to my feet and then pushed toward the door in a rush. “Honest to God, James, it isn’t what you think. He—”
“Stop.” New hands touched my shoulders and I found myself looking up at the hard, handsome face of James, I presumed. “He’s bleeding.” Was that the warmth I felt behind my ear? “And you can’t push him out into the weather like this, Liam, not looking like he does. For fuck’s sake.” He met my eyes again. “Down the hall to the left, second door, is a bathroom. Use it to clean yourself up and get dressed. Stay there until I come and get you.”
I nodded numbly. My head was painful and my heart had barely slowed its anxious, adrenalized pounding. I moved away from them and down the hall to the indicated bathroom, shutting myself in. Voices rose, not quite shouts, but whatever was happening out there wasn’t pretty. And here I was locked in the bathroom. Shit.