The walls were painted in dark blues and grays. Professionally framed copies of eighties movie posters hung on the walls throughout -Terminator, Top Gun, The Empire Strikes Back, a little bit of everything. The floor was a beautifully finished light wood. I had no idea what kind it was.NotNature Boy here. There were a couple of soft throw rugs placed strategically throughout the room.
The bed I’d slept in was king-sized and I appreciated the length. With my height, my feet tended to hang over the edge of smaller beds. There were tables on each side of the bed with matching lamps and an alarm clock. Heavy drapes hung from the two large windows and a sliding glass door led out to a small deck that ran along one side of the house.
For all of the room’s beauty, it felt strangely empty, like a guest room that had gone unused too long. My suitcases sat inside one door and another door led to what I assumed was a bathroom.
Light flooded the room from the sliding doors and the clock on the bedside table told me it was still fairly early, but I felt too awake to go back to sleep. I threw the bed covers back and stood, realizing I was still wearing the clothes I’d worn to travel. Ugh! At least my shoes were on the floor next to the bed.
The sight of my shoes, slightly muddy and with bits of grass stuck to them, reminded me of everything that had happened the night before.Fuck. Embarrassment overwhelmed me and I had to move.
I stood, my knee brushing against the bedside table, sending the drawer one way, the lamp and the table the other. I snagged all three and juggled everything in an attempt to keep them all from falling. They came to rest in my arms, the drawer pressed against the table, the lamp gripped in my hand.
As I set everything back in their places, I noticed something rattling in the drawer. Shit, I hoped I didn’t break anything.
I looked inside the discombobulated drawer and saw one of those tri-fold photo displays, gold metal frame half open, glass fortunately unscathed. The first photo frame was open to a photo of Lee Devereaux seated on a man’s lap, both of them balanced precariously on a wooden rocking chair.
Lee’s arm was wrapped proprietarily around the shoulders of the other man and they were both laughing. My curiosity got the better of me, and I opened it to look at the remaining pictures.
The second picture looked like an engagement photo, the same men again, this time both wearing suits, and Lee down on one knee, holding a ring box in front of him. The look of adoration on his face as he looked into the other man’s eyes made my throat tighten.
The final photo was a photo of just the blond man, his short hair dark with water, tiny droplets caught in the stiff bristles on his head and a few droplets making their way down his unshaven face, past beautiful grey eyes.
I realized suddenly that I was looking at something that was probably very private for Lee. I gently closed the photo frame and put it back in the drawer before sliding it shut. I felt bad for invading his privacy.
The push of my bladder made me realize it hadn’t been just the sound of the damn bird waking me up. A couple of doors led out of the bedroom and it took me only a minute to figure out which one led to the bathroom.
Someone, Lee, probably, had thoughtfully left towels out on the sink. I took care of business and decided a shower was in order. I didn’t know for sure when the meet and greet was, but figured I needed to be ready.
While I showered, memories of the night before continued to replay in my mind and I groaned. I vaguely remembered Devereaux“helping”(more like“carrying”) me into the room from the car. I also remembered the feel of his strong arms around me, his hands holding me against his muscled form, one arm pressing me to him while unlocking the door with the other. Just the memory of his body next to mine made goosebumps pop up on my arms, and an unfamiliar heaviness fill my groin.
Water spattered off my chest as I stared down at my cock as it stiffened, and I was thoroughly confused. I mean, I knew, theoretically, that this was what was supposed to happen when you were attracted to someone, but it had never really happened to me. Notwhen I'd been with any of my customers, and never in the years since I'd escaped from Ricky and Dreyven.
I’d seen enough men with erections, and I knew, again in theory, what seemed to make them happy. I tentatively poured soap into my hand and considered the raging hard on that was now pointing dramatically at the shower wall. Drama Queen. I certainly wasn’t a novice, after all, I’d pleasured plenty of men in my life. Porn sites and personal experience had taught me what I wassupposedto do, but the thought of actually stroking myself had always been unbearable, memories of all the men who had used and abused me haunted each and every stroke.
In the early days of my escape from Milwaukee, I’d been downright revolted at the thought of having an orgasm. As I’d grown older, and gotten more therapy, I’d been able to at least acknowledge that having an orgasm was a perfectly normal biological function and I’d had them from time to time. Just never when I was awake, or when I was thinking of someone else.
My breath drew faster as I soaped my body, my hand straying tentatively between my legs to gently stroke my balls. I groaned at how good it felt as my fingers tightened around my shaft, the memory of Lee’s beautiful green eyes foremost in my mind. They’d sparkled and glinted, like I imagined emeralds would look like.
I remembered the feel of his hands as he’d stroked my hair back from my face, and how safe I'd felt in his arms after my panic attack. The solid feel of his muscles against my body, the way they’d rippled under his shirt, and the not-inconsiderable feel of his own cock as he had been pressed up against me. Surely, I hadn’t been dreaming that part.
“Gnnngh!” I cried out, belatedly trying to stifle my cry as I painted the wall of the shower with white stripes of cum. The unexpected orgasm seemed to go on forever, but in reality, probably only lasted a few moments. By the time my body stopped spasming I was leaning over, hands on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath, water pounding my back. I watched in confusion as the shower washedaway the evidence of my surprise release and I slowly began to recover my strength.Fuck.
What the hell? Why was I so attracted to this man? I mean, he was handsome, but he was no Tom Hiddleston. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was about him that made me react so strongly to him. I’d seen a lot of beautiful men in my life, but something about him just… resonated… with me.
I remembered the feel of his body as he’d held me up while he unlocked the door. My brain boggled as my cock, which had started to soften after my mind-blowing orgasm, began to harden again. Isocould not deal with this right now. Determined to ignore the formerly-malfunctioning piece of my anatomy, I quickly finished up my shower. Using one of the towels I dried off, then wrapped the other around my waist as I rummaged through my suitcases to find the gunk for my hair Lizzie insisted I use. While I worked the product into my hair, I tried to remember more about the drive back.
I knew I’d fallen asleep in Lee’s car coming back from the motel. I was always exhausted after a panic attack. My therapist said it was something about all the adrenaline my body produced during an episode, the whole “fight or flight” thing.
I vaguely remembered getting inside. It had been dark, and I didn’t recall much about the house itself, but I did remember standing outside in the cool air, hearing the sounds of crickets as Lee struggled to get the door unlocked. As we’d stood there, I’d looked up into the sky and been amazed at the number of stars I could see. I also remembered the feel of Lee’s firm, warm body pressed up against mine. I remembered snuggling up against him. Oh god, no. I’dsnuggled.
I shook my head at my actions and quickly dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt from one of my favorite bands, Crossroads Gin. I decided that the best option was to push the whole issue to the back of my brain. I couldn’t deal with it right now, so I’d be all Scarlet O’Hara and think about it tomorrow. Right now I needed to focus on today.
I knew we had the meet and greet at the bookstore today, but Icouldn’t remember when. I’d missed the one yesterday, so I was determined to do whatever I could to make up for it. The store had paid good money to bring me out here, and I really wanted to make sure they were happy. I was still nervous, though. I'd never done one of these before. Oh, individual interviews, or the occasional recorded event, sure, but I’d never done a no-holds-barred in-person signing.
I had just finished tying my shoes, a pair of bright red Converse High Tops Zem got me for Christmas, when I noticed my hands were shaking. I took a moment to run through a couple of the grounding exercises Sarah, my therapist, had taught me.
Dammit, Lizzie was supposed to be here to help me through this. My increasing anxiety at least had the effect of taming my “Mason-Gone-Wild” reaction and I was able to button my jeans up without much trouble.
I dragged my phone out of my messenger bag and glared at the black screen. It was dead, of course. If I’d been exhausted enough to snuggle with the hunky bookstore owner, I certainly had been too tired to think about charging my phone. I rooted through my things until I found my charger. As I plugged it in to the wall to recharge, I smelled something…something amazing.
