don’t you?”
“What did I ever do to you?” Seriously—James really couldn’t remember.
“You….” Lee floundered for a moment and then looked furtively at Rafael. “Are you telling me you honestly don’t remember?”
James tried to remember how to brazen things out like a cocky bird instead of tucking his head between his shoulders like a turtle. “Not really. But whatever it is I did that pissed you off, I swear I apologize, okay?”
Lee snorted, shook his head, and simply walked away. James watched him go, his heart pounding, and then wondered what in the hell he’d ever been afraid of.
Still musing, he clicked the lock and pulled open the heavy door, wondering when the squeak that came with it had become comforting. He settled himself into the black leather seat, did the oddly styled lap belt (Rafael called it a “quick-release,” but usually, James was so busy trying to figure out how the damned thing worked that quick was the farthest thing from his mind), and then waited for Rafael and Marlowe to get settled.
“So, what did you do to him?” Rafael asked as he did his seatbelt, and James grimaced.
“I don’t remember anything besides the blow-job I think he gave me. I was pretty drunk at the time.”
Rafael burst into raucous laughter. “Who was giving, papi, because you’re pretty good at those. It shouldn’t have pissed him off that bad!”
James grinned and put the key in the ignition. “He was giving,” he said, embarrassed. “All I kind of remember was coming and then asking him if he learned that from his wife, because she seemed to think he was straight.”
“Oh no you didn’t! ”
James couldn’t even look at him. “Maybe I didn’t!” He shrugged. “I’ve never been that drunk in my life. I think I was trying to be funny. I didn’t know it was a sore spot.”
As Rafael howled in laughter and Marlowe settled down, James turned the key in the ignition, waiting for the absurdly loud engine to start up.
He put it in reverse, tapped on the gas…
And was astounded when the thing growled backward like it was stalking a Honda to eat for lunch. James knew his eyes got really big. He pushed his glasses furtively up his nose and felt a tiny, power-hungry grin start to push at the corners of his mouth.
“How much horsepower did you say this has?” he asked with some caution.
“Does it matter?” Rafael asked, still chortling over the blow-job thing.
“No,” James decided, then threw the thing into drive and gunned it.
Oh, wheaowwwwwwwwwww….
It was like being a god! That car… it could have gone anywhere… and it could have gotten there at light speed. Sitting at an intersection felt like being an ADD grade-schooler in the last few minutes of school. James found himself bouncing up and down on his ass in anticipation of hitting the gas again.
It was almost depressing that they were only going to the dog park. Hell, it was only a fifteen-minute drive!
“Can I drive home?” he asked when they got there, and Rafael gave a wicked, full-body grin.
“Baby, as long as I’m the only man giving you blow-jobs, you can drive me anywhere you want!”
Marlowe was especially happy this day—he frisked and growled at the little ball and danced around James’s hand as he went to throw it again. James finally gave up on the ball and just sank to his knees and rubbed the little dog all over until he ran around in circles, chasing his own tail, before collapsing happily at James’s feet. James picked the little dog up and got his daily ration of face licking, and he caught Rafael looking at him oddly.
“What?”
“I’m just doing a timeline, that’s all. Your ex dumps you, you come here, you get drunk and… weird things happen with that asshole in the douche-mobile, and then you get a dog?”
James blushed. “Named Marlowe,” he said quietly.
Rafael thought about it, put the pieces together. “Named Marlowe,” he agreed. “Who needs to be loved just for
“What did I ever do to you?” Seriously—James really couldn’t remember.
“You….” Lee floundered for a moment and then looked furtively at Rafael. “Are you telling me you honestly don’t remember?”
James tried to remember how to brazen things out like a cocky bird instead of tucking his head between his shoulders like a turtle. “Not really. But whatever it is I did that pissed you off, I swear I apologize, okay?”
Lee snorted, shook his head, and simply walked away. James watched him go, his heart pounding, and then wondered what in the hell he’d ever been afraid of.
Still musing, he clicked the lock and pulled open the heavy door, wondering when the squeak that came with it had become comforting. He settled himself into the black leather seat, did the oddly styled lap belt (Rafael called it a “quick-release,” but usually, James was so busy trying to figure out how the damned thing worked that quick was the farthest thing from his mind), and then waited for Rafael and Marlowe to get settled.
“So, what did you do to him?” Rafael asked as he did his seatbelt, and James grimaced.
“I don’t remember anything besides the blow-job I think he gave me. I was pretty drunk at the time.”
Rafael burst into raucous laughter. “Who was giving, papi, because you’re pretty good at those. It shouldn’t have pissed him off that bad!”
James grinned and put the key in the ignition. “He was giving,” he said, embarrassed. “All I kind of remember was coming and then asking him if he learned that from his wife, because she seemed to think he was straight.”
“Oh no you didn’t! ”
James couldn’t even look at him. “Maybe I didn’t!” He shrugged. “I’ve never been that drunk in my life. I think I was trying to be funny. I didn’t know it was a sore spot.”
As Rafael howled in laughter and Marlowe settled down, James turned the key in the ignition, waiting for the absurdly loud engine to start up.
He put it in reverse, tapped on the gas…
And was astounded when the thing growled backward like it was stalking a Honda to eat for lunch. James knew his eyes got really big. He pushed his glasses furtively up his nose and felt a tiny, power-hungry grin start to push at the corners of his mouth.
“How much horsepower did you say this has?” he asked with some caution.
“Does it matter?” Rafael asked, still chortling over the blow-job thing.
“No,” James decided, then threw the thing into drive and gunned it.
Oh, wheaowwwwwwwwwww….
It was like being a god! That car… it could have gone anywhere… and it could have gotten there at light speed. Sitting at an intersection felt like being an ADD grade-schooler in the last few minutes of school. James found himself bouncing up and down on his ass in anticipation of hitting the gas again.
It was almost depressing that they were only going to the dog park. Hell, it was only a fifteen-minute drive!
“Can I drive home?” he asked when they got there, and Rafael gave a wicked, full-body grin.
“Baby, as long as I’m the only man giving you blow-jobs, you can drive me anywhere you want!”
Marlowe was especially happy this day—he frisked and growled at the little ball and danced around James’s hand as he went to throw it again. James finally gave up on the ball and just sank to his knees and rubbed the little dog all over until he ran around in circles, chasing his own tail, before collapsing happily at James’s feet. James picked the little dog up and got his daily ration of face licking, and he caught Rafael looking at him oddly.
“What?”
“I’m just doing a timeline, that’s all. Your ex dumps you, you come here, you get drunk and… weird things happen with that asshole in the douche-mobile, and then you get a dog?”
James blushed. “Named Marlowe,” he said quietly.
Rafael thought about it, put the pieces together. “Named Marlowe,” he agreed. “Who needs to be loved just for
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