he"d probed, Reese had snapped at him,
something he"d never done before or since.
“Just drop it, okay? It"s a long, boring story. He did me a big favor once. And I
worked for his dad for a long time. That"s it. No big deal.”
Jeff sensed he was lying, at least by omission, but he didn"t know about what. He
let the matter drop. When Reese was ready, he would tell him. Jeff thought about it,
though, wondering what kind of favor Hank could have done twelve years ago that
would still keep Reese hanging around.
He had a sense they were, or had been at one time, more than just friends, but again
he didn"t probe. He didn"t really want to know about Reese"s prior lovers. They would
stay in the present. The only history that mattered was the shared one they were
building together.
Reese shifted, turning his head so his face was pressed against Jeff"s crotch.
“Mmm,” Reese murmured. “What have we here?” Jeff cock instantly rose in response,
pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
Reese jerked at the snap on Jeff"s fly and pulled down the zipper. Reaching into
Jeff"s underwear, he pulled out his cock. “Hey,” Jeff protested, though his erection
stiffened even more at Reese"s touch. “Someone might see us.”
“No one will see us. Those bushes are shielding us from the trail. Relax. This won"t
take long.” Reese chuckled and angled himself, lowering his mouth over Jeff"s
protruding shaft.
“Christ,” Jeff whispered, succumbing to Reese"s skilled lips and tongue. Reese was
right—it didn"t take long, even though they"d already made love twice earlier that
morning. When Jeff exploded into his mouth, Reese sucked down every drop and
looked up at Jeff, smacking his lips in an exaggerated manner.
“Mmm, mmm good,” Reese said, grinning. “What"s for dessert?”
“You,” Jeff replied, grinning back.
~*~
“The quail with mushrooms and cream sauce is excellent, or if you prefer scallops,
the Coquille St. Jacques will melt in your mouth.” Hank peered over his leather menu
inquiringly at Reese.
They were sitting at a table covered in thick white linen and set with fine china and
crystal. A string quartet was playing classical music on a dais in one corner of the room
and there seemed to be almost as many tuxedoed waiters milling about the room as
there were patrons at the tables.
Reese scanned the entrees, which had no prices beside them. If you had to ask, you
couldn"t afford it. He suppressed a grin, thinking of Jeff, who wouldn"t have wanted
any of this rich, creamy food with names he wouldn"t even try to pronounce.
He would have rather spent the evening with Jeff, but knew he couldn"t put Hank
off any longer. And in truth, he"d been dying to try this place, which, despite its
astronomical prices, had a waiting list for reservations a mile long.
They placed their order, along with what Reese was sure was a very expensive
bottle of red wine. The food was some of the best Reese had ever had, even when Hank
had taken him to Paris, and Hank was clearly pleased when Reese expressed this. They
talked about nothing much, to Reese"s relief, though if he knew Hank, and he did, it
wouldn"t be long before the other shoe fell.
Two bottles of wine later, over crème brûlée and port, Hank leaned back against the
plush, velvet upholstered chair and laced his fingers over his chest in what Reese
recognized was his “getting down to business” mode.
“Okay, Reese. Out with it.”
“Out with what?” Here we go, he thought.
“It"s been three weeks. I"ve barely seen or heard from you. It"s like pulling teeth just
reach you on the fucking phone. You"re seeing someone. I know you are. Don"t try to
deny it.”
“Why would I deny it? You and I are friends, not lovers.”
Hank"s head jerked back like a flag snapping and his face reddened. Reese knew
he"d gone too far, too fast. “Hey,” he said, trying to backpedal. “You know what I mean.
We"ve both dated other guys
something he"d never done before or since.
“Just drop it, okay? It"s a long, boring story. He did me a big favor once. And I
worked for his dad for a long time. That"s it. No big deal.”
Jeff sensed he was lying, at least by omission, but he didn"t know about what. He
let the matter drop. When Reese was ready, he would tell him. Jeff thought about it,
though, wondering what kind of favor Hank could have done twelve years ago that
would still keep Reese hanging around.
He had a sense they were, or had been at one time, more than just friends, but again
he didn"t probe. He didn"t really want to know about Reese"s prior lovers. They would
stay in the present. The only history that mattered was the shared one they were
building together.
Reese shifted, turning his head so his face was pressed against Jeff"s crotch.
“Mmm,” Reese murmured. “What have we here?” Jeff cock instantly rose in response,
pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
Reese jerked at the snap on Jeff"s fly and pulled down the zipper. Reaching into
Jeff"s underwear, he pulled out his cock. “Hey,” Jeff protested, though his erection
stiffened even more at Reese"s touch. “Someone might see us.”
“No one will see us. Those bushes are shielding us from the trail. Relax. This won"t
take long.” Reese chuckled and angled himself, lowering his mouth over Jeff"s
protruding shaft.
“Christ,” Jeff whispered, succumbing to Reese"s skilled lips and tongue. Reese was
right—it didn"t take long, even though they"d already made love twice earlier that
morning. When Jeff exploded into his mouth, Reese sucked down every drop and
looked up at Jeff, smacking his lips in an exaggerated manner.
“Mmm, mmm good,” Reese said, grinning. “What"s for dessert?”
“You,” Jeff replied, grinning back.
~*~
“The quail with mushrooms and cream sauce is excellent, or if you prefer scallops,
the Coquille St. Jacques will melt in your mouth.” Hank peered over his leather menu
inquiringly at Reese.
They were sitting at a table covered in thick white linen and set with fine china and
crystal. A string quartet was playing classical music on a dais in one corner of the room
and there seemed to be almost as many tuxedoed waiters milling about the room as
there were patrons at the tables.
Reese scanned the entrees, which had no prices beside them. If you had to ask, you
couldn"t afford it. He suppressed a grin, thinking of Jeff, who wouldn"t have wanted
any of this rich, creamy food with names he wouldn"t even try to pronounce.
He would have rather spent the evening with Jeff, but knew he couldn"t put Hank
off any longer. And in truth, he"d been dying to try this place, which, despite its
astronomical prices, had a waiting list for reservations a mile long.
They placed their order, along with what Reese was sure was a very expensive
bottle of red wine. The food was some of the best Reese had ever had, even when Hank
had taken him to Paris, and Hank was clearly pleased when Reese expressed this. They
talked about nothing much, to Reese"s relief, though if he knew Hank, and he did, it
wouldn"t be long before the other shoe fell.
Two bottles of wine later, over crème brûlée and port, Hank leaned back against the
plush, velvet upholstered chair and laced his fingers over his chest in what Reese
recognized was his “getting down to business” mode.
“Okay, Reese. Out with it.”
“Out with what?” Here we go, he thought.
“It"s been three weeks. I"ve barely seen or heard from you. It"s like pulling teeth just
reach you on the fucking phone. You"re seeing someone. I know you are. Don"t try to
deny it.”
“Why would I deny it? You and I are friends, not lovers.”
Hank"s head jerked back like a flag snapping and his face reddened. Reese knew
he"d gone too far, too fast. “Hey,” he said, trying to backpedal. “You know what I mean.
We"ve both dated other guys
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