stared at his favorite magazine again. Every time he saw Ken Tanaka, all he could think of were these drawings. Right on the cover, there he was. The character had short ink-black hair that flopped in front of his face over wide yet still almond eyes that in this case were blue, not brown. Close enough. Of course, this face was pretty boyish. Younger than Ken, but Ken was more beautiful.
Jim traced the lips on the drawing with his forefinger, then flipped through the pages. Oh man. How many times for how many years had he stared at that beautiful ass being fucked by that big cock? He was sick. These drawings ruined his life and the life of his friend. Hadn’t he learned his fucking lessons?
Jim’s hand slipped into his own lap and squeezed his massive erection.
C HAPTER S IX
K EN BRAKED at the light and reached out to dial the phone, then stopped. Why exactly was he doing this? Gene made him bonkers. When he drove off last night, he’d put a fitting end on his relationship with Gene. Did he really want to start up that whole irritation again for some straight construction worker he barely knew?
His hand danced over his phone. Yes, he actually did. There was a realness about Jim that weirdly appealed—not that he was into seducing straight guys. He pressed the button and spoke into the phone. “Call Gene Willings.”
One ring. Two. “Uh, is this Ken?”
He tried to keep the sigh out of his voice. “Yes, darling. How are you?”
“I’m pissed at you. You palmed me off on those two fairies and left me.”
“I called to ask you a favor.”
“I suppose it was too much to ask that you were calling to apologize, missed me desperately, and couldn’t live another minute without me.”
“Please, dear.”
“Yes, I know to whom I speak. What can I do for you, Ken?”
“I have an acquaintance who may need an architect to do some fast tenant improvement drawings and possibly some, uh, Title Twenty-four calcs, he says. I thought of you.”
Gene sighed deeply. “This is a new boyfriend, I assume?”
“Actually, no. He’s straight as a plumb line. He just happens to be a friend of a friend of mine, and a patient. Is this in your wheelhouse, darling, or have I called in the wrong favor?” Yes, that was a reminder.
“Favor? Ah, I see. A bit of reckoning, are we? Tit for tat?”
“I have very little interest in tits.”
“Ha. Ha. So if I do this, will I no longer owe you for sponsoring me at the club?”
“You can consider all debts paid. And, of course, I assume you will be paid. This isn’t pro bono.”
“You said fast?”
“My acquaintance won’t even know until tomorrow if this is happening, but if it’s on, he’ll need the drawings right away. I told him we might meet over lunch.”
“Are you buying?”
“Of course.”
“All right, count me in. How will I know if we’re going forward?”
“I’ll call you. We’ll go to the club.”
“At least I’ll get a free lunch out of it.”
“And my eternal gratitude.”
“Yes. That and a hundred dollars will buy me dinner. Talk to you tomorrow.” Click.
Oh my, he is a pain in the ass.
Ken pulled off the 55, maneuvered the red lights on Baker, and turned into the tract where his parents lived. Their old home in Costa Mesa remained a point of contention between them, but then, points of contention formed the whole foundation of their relationship. He’d tried to move them to an upscale neighborhood. They’d refused to budge from their place with its short walk to the Asian market.
As he pulled to the curb, he saw the strange car that stood in their driveway. Shit. She’d done it again. Who was it this time? One more uncomfortable evening with his mother’s latest pick for his wife. One more set of disappointed parents when he respectfully declined to marry their dutiful daughter.
He stared at the red front door. He could just drive away. Live his life. Forget he had a family. His cheeks puffed as he let out a long stream
Jim traced the lips on the drawing with his forefinger, then flipped through the pages. Oh man. How many times for how many years had he stared at that beautiful ass being fucked by that big cock? He was sick. These drawings ruined his life and the life of his friend. Hadn’t he learned his fucking lessons?
Jim’s hand slipped into his own lap and squeezed his massive erection.
C HAPTER S IX
K EN BRAKED at the light and reached out to dial the phone, then stopped. Why exactly was he doing this? Gene made him bonkers. When he drove off last night, he’d put a fitting end on his relationship with Gene. Did he really want to start up that whole irritation again for some straight construction worker he barely knew?
His hand danced over his phone. Yes, he actually did. There was a realness about Jim that weirdly appealed—not that he was into seducing straight guys. He pressed the button and spoke into the phone. “Call Gene Willings.”
One ring. Two. “Uh, is this Ken?”
He tried to keep the sigh out of his voice. “Yes, darling. How are you?”
“I’m pissed at you. You palmed me off on those two fairies and left me.”
“I called to ask you a favor.”
“I suppose it was too much to ask that you were calling to apologize, missed me desperately, and couldn’t live another minute without me.”
“Please, dear.”
“Yes, I know to whom I speak. What can I do for you, Ken?”
“I have an acquaintance who may need an architect to do some fast tenant improvement drawings and possibly some, uh, Title Twenty-four calcs, he says. I thought of you.”
Gene sighed deeply. “This is a new boyfriend, I assume?”
“Actually, no. He’s straight as a plumb line. He just happens to be a friend of a friend of mine, and a patient. Is this in your wheelhouse, darling, or have I called in the wrong favor?” Yes, that was a reminder.
“Favor? Ah, I see. A bit of reckoning, are we? Tit for tat?”
“I have very little interest in tits.”
“Ha. Ha. So if I do this, will I no longer owe you for sponsoring me at the club?”
“You can consider all debts paid. And, of course, I assume you will be paid. This isn’t pro bono.”
“You said fast?”
“My acquaintance won’t even know until tomorrow if this is happening, but if it’s on, he’ll need the drawings right away. I told him we might meet over lunch.”
“Are you buying?”
“Of course.”
“All right, count me in. How will I know if we’re going forward?”
“I’ll call you. We’ll go to the club.”
“At least I’ll get a free lunch out of it.”
“And my eternal gratitude.”
“Yes. That and a hundred dollars will buy me dinner. Talk to you tomorrow.” Click.
Oh my, he is a pain in the ass.
Ken pulled off the 55, maneuvered the red lights on Baker, and turned into the tract where his parents lived. Their old home in Costa Mesa remained a point of contention between them, but then, points of contention formed the whole foundation of their relationship. He’d tried to move them to an upscale neighborhood. They’d refused to budge from their place with its short walk to the Asian market.
As he pulled to the curb, he saw the strange car that stood in their driveway. Shit. She’d done it again. Who was it this time? One more uncomfortable evening with his mother’s latest pick for his wife. One more set of disappointed parents when he respectfully declined to marry their dutiful daughter.
He stared at the red front door. He could just drive away. Live his life. Forget he had a family. His cheeks puffed as he let out a long stream
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