Tommy was in a gay bar.
“Here you go.” The Mohawk guy was back, placing a paper napkin and a tall glass of Coke in front of him. “You wanna pay for it or set up a tab?”
Tommy fumbled clumsily with his wallet, all thumbs, taking out three dollars and handing them over. Mohawk guy nodded and went over to the till. Tommy sipped at the drink, loaded with ice, letting its coolness take away some of the heat from his face. He pulled the cap bill over his eyes and leaned on the bar, observing his fellow customers. More than once his gaze drifted back to the bespectacled bartender, who was laughing and joking with his customers. Now and again he’d raise his eyes to watch the game, joining in the roars and groans of those around him.
Who was he trying to kid? Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off him. The man was sex on legs: those muscles, those eyes, that sexy beard…. Then he caught Tommy looking and flashed him a quick grin and a wink.
The hair stood up on the back of Tommy’s neck, and his breathing quickened. He felt light-headed, shivery, and hot, all at the same time. What made it worse? The bartendernoticed. That grin widened and those intense eyes sparkled.
“Hey, Mike, can you check the pump for Blue Moon?” Mohawk guy said to Mr. Sex on Legs. Glugging noises issued from the tap as beer spattered into the glass he was trying to fill.
“Sure thing.” Mike gave Tommy a last glance before disappearing behind the bar. Tommy breathed in deeply and took a long swig of Coke. His physical reaction to Mike had been… powerful, not something he’d ever experienced before. He was still trembling, for God’s sake.
Well, if I’d had any doubts about me bein’ gay,thatsure blew them all to hell. There’d been no mistaking the lump of stone behind his jeans zipper or the tingle in his balls. Not that he was gonnadoanything: Tommy was more than content to sit in the bar ’til they closed, sipping Cherry Coke and enjoying the view.
Yeah, acknowledging he was gay was one thing—doinganything with that knowledge was something else entirely. And Tommy wasn’t ready to go down that road just yet. In fact, not for a long while yet.
Chapter Two
Mike Scott switchedoff the engine and grabbed his bag from the passenger seat beside him. The parking lot of ManFactory’s studios was virtually empty, but it was only nine in the morning. Mike always preferred to arrive early; he hated being last minute. He got out of the car, locked it, and headed for the main door. The last few days of September were warm, temperatures maybe in the eighties, so he’d gone without a jacket, wearing only his worn jeans, boots, and a black cotton shirt. Bag slung over his shoulder, Mike pushed open the glass door and entered the reception area.
“Morning, Scott,” Paul called out in greeting from behind the glass desk. On the walls were long vertical banners of some of the ManFactory models, all staring into the camera, thumbs hooked in the waistband of torn jeans, leather pants, or a skimpy pair of Speedos. Mike tried not to look at his own image, taken when he was in his late thirties. He’d filled out since then, most of it muscle, the result of many hours in the gym and keeping an obsessive eye on his carbs intake.
Scott Masters, adult entertainer, six years with ManFactory, nearly twenty years in the porn industry, and he still had a following. Of course these days, most requests came fromcompanies who produced scenes that were more bears and daddies than anything else. Mike supposed he had to expect that at his age. But being forty-three didn’t mean he was on his way out, even if lately he was beginning to get a little tired of it all. He only worked three or four nights a week at Woofs, but he was now in a position to be able to seriously consider cutting down the number of scenes he filmed. He’d put enough by so he didn’t have to worry about money. But the requests kept pouring in, and he wasn’t about to turn down good money. Except, of course, it wasn’t as good as it had been when he’d first started out.
The times, they were certainly a-changin’….
“Hi, Paul,” Mike said with a cheery wave. “Has Dino arrived yet?” His gaze drifted to the young man slouched on one of the couches next to the desk. Dressed in jeans and a black wifebeater, he looked bored out of his skull, barely acknowledging Mike beyond a quick shift of the eyes in his direction.
“Nah, but he shouldn’t be long.” Paul handed him the usual clipboard with its attached documentation. He grinned. “Early as usual, I see.”
Mike returned his grin. “You know me.” He walked through reception to the main area of the studio and into the little room with its table and plastic chairs. After slinging his bag onto a chair, he sat down and filled out the boring but necessary details that were required prior to a shoot. The studio had already received his latest test results electronically several days before.
“Scott, can you do me a favor?”
Mike glanced up. Paul stood in the doorway looking anxious, the bored young man at his side. “What’s up?”
Paul inclined his head in the young man’s direction. “Chad here has an interview with Rod, but he isn’t here yet, and there’s a call I gotta take first. Seeing as Dino hasn’t arrived yet either,any chance you could maybe give him a little guided tour of the studio?” His eyes pleaded with Mike. “Pretty please? I know it’s unusual, but with you having been with us for so long, I’m sure Rod and Tony wouldn’t mind. I mean, they trust you, right? You’re one of the family, yeah?”
Mike guffawed. “Quit digging and batting those eyelashes at me, okay? Sure, I’ll show him around.” He rose to his feet. “C’mon… Chad? Let me give you the fifty cent tour.” He winked.
Paul heaved an overly dramatic sigh of relief. “Oh, thanks. I won’t be long. I swear.” He dashed off in the direction of reception, leaving Chad standing there looking amused.
“What a flamer,” he commented under his breath.
Mike arched his eyebrows, back stiffening. “Oh my, apparently here’s someone who hasn’t readHow to Win Friends and Influence People. That guy is your first port of call for the studio, and yet you feel it’s okay to make disparaging remarks about him?” He shook his head. “Never heard anyone say first impressions count, kid?”
Chad scowled. “I’m not a kid.”
Mike tilted his head. “Where you from, kid?” Like he didn’t already have a pretty good idea, judging by that accent.
“Idaho.” Chad stuck his chin out. “You got a problem with that? And who are you, anyway? That guy makes it sound like I’m supposed to know you.”
Mike bit back his sigh. Another porn wannabe with fifty tons of attitude. He ignored the last comment and marched past Chad, out of the room, and onto the main floor, beckoning him to follow.
“This section contains all the different sets the studio uses.” He pointed over at the empty sets. It wouldn’t be too long before Seb, the cameraman, and Tony, the director, would arrive. “Over there is your standard doctor’s office, and beyond that is the business office setup. Then we have a couple differentbedrooms, hotel room, classroom, apartment, the usual….” He came to a halt and turned to peer at Chad. “Youhaveseen some of the ManFactory scenes before, right?”
Chad shrugged. “Couple. To be honest, I don’t watch gay porn, ’cause I’m straight.”
