I made him happy.
It was a great feeling. Of course, it wasn’t the only thing making Adam content.
He had a really good afterglow going for him.
Adam was no stranger to the sensual glow that followed good sex, but he knew from experience it never lasted very long. The bright flare of an orgasm, and then poof, it was gone. What was left was the memory and the benefits of a nice cardiac workout, as well as a reduction in stress levels. A real sexual afterglow, one that lasted long after the event, was rare for him, and it took more than good sex to achieve it. It was nothing to do with the type of sex, andeverythingto do with what both partners brought to it. There had to be trust, honesty, communication…
Is that why last night felt different?
It was true Adam felt a connection with Paul, something that was atypical of his hook ups. It was in man’s genes to be wired for sexual pleasure and reproduction, but also for attachment to others, to form bonds. For the first time, Adam had to acknowledge that as a human being, it was also in his genes to be pre-programed to experience love.
Love. Sexual love. Romantic love. It didn’t matter which way Adam looked at it, all the signs were there.
He was falling in love with Paul—and it was never going to work.
Adam sat up in bed and forced himself to be objective.
It didn’t matter that the sex was phenomenal. That Paul appeared to understand Adam better than anyone he’d ever met. No, if Adam couldn’t provide what Paul needed, then they had no future together.
What if… what if Paul wants whatIwant? A lover, a partner? More than just someone to help him explore his kinks?
Fuck. Thinking about it sent a jolt through Adam’s body and made him tingle all over. The irony of it all hadn’t escaped him. He’d gone into this so sure of what he wanted, so confident it was only a matter of meeting each other’s sexual needs, romance not even on the horizon…
And now look at me.
He was a mess.
And there was something else. Paul was there to do a job—to help Adam regain his independence. That job had a shelf life, one that would expire eventually.
A relationship implied saddling Paul with a blind guy.And why would a twenty-five-year-old want to do that?
One way or another, Adam needed to know where this was going.
Paul returned, and Adam welcomed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He caught theclinkof mugs on the bedside table, then the mattress dipped as Paul climbed into the bed bedside him. Adam reached for him, his fingers encountering bare flesh.
Paul chuckled again. “Yes, I’m still naked. I’m starting to think I may as well spend my days this way. You know, to save time.”
Adam palmed his filling cock. “Fucking the assistant over his desk… That sounds like a good way to go.”
Paul laughed. “And averygood way to get no work done.” There was a pause. “Okay, I’m firing up the laptop. What am I looking for?”
“A folder entitled Ron Berman. He’s the photographer who travelled with me. He was taking shots for a yachting magazine and asked to come along.” He leaned back against the pillows, listening to Paul’s fingers on the keyboard.
Then the silence hit him.
“Did you find them?”
Adam could barely hear him breathing. The atmosphere had a familiar feel to it, reminiscent of when Paul had found…
Ah.
Adam reached over for his mug and brought it to his lips. He took a sip before speaking.
“I’m going to hazard a guess you found a folder entitled Leather. Am I correct?”
“Yes.” A tremor in Paul’s voice.
“Those photos were taken for a book Ron was writing about the leather and fetish culture in the US. Most of them were taken in San Francisco at the Dore Alley Fair and the Folsom Street Fair. That was when I first met Ron.” Adam paused, giving Paul time to absorb the images. He could only imagine the thoughts that were racing through Paul’s head right then.
